The Eyes See True
by LadyLannister
Summary: AU. Tyrion's escape plan for Jaime is successful, and he leaves Riverrun without having made a vow to return Catelyn Stark's daughters. He arrives immediately after the Battle of Blackwater and learns the truth about Cersei much sooner. Joffrey and Sansa are still engaged. How will his presence change events? Slightly Older Sansa/SPOILERS for books & upcoming seasons
1. Chapter 1

_Tyrion's plot to break Jaime out of Riverrun is successful. When Jaime returns to Kings Landing it is without having sworn an oath to Catelyn Stark to return her daughters to her. I will be warping the timeline of things quite a bit from the book/show. When Jaime arrives, it is just after the Battle of Blackwater & Sansa is still engaged to Joffrey. WARNING: There will be major spoilers for the book/upcoming seasons of the show, so don't read if you don't want to know!_

_..._

"The heart lies and the head plays tricks on us, but the eyes see true." – A Game of Thrones

...

Chapter 1

As the Red Keep came into view, Jaime felt a surge of relief. He was mere minutes away from reuniting with his family – with his beloved Cersei. Jaime nervously looked down at the stump at the end of his right arm. He wondered how his twin was going to react to seeing him so far from perfect. When he'd left Kings Landing nearly a year ago, Jaime had been the best sword in the seven kingdoms, and as handsome as Cersei was beautiful. Now, he was returning as a broken man – both literally and figuratively.

When Jaime left Harrenhal, Lord Bolton had seen fit to outfit him as a knight, ignoring the missing hand that made such warlike garb a travesty. Jaime rode with a sword and dagger on his belt, shield and helm hung from his saddle, and chainmail under a dark brown surcoat. Despite his attire, Jaime had never felt less like a knight, nor less like a man, as he stared down at his stump.

Jaime had taken wounds before, but he had never known such pain as he had felt when the outlaws calling themselves the Bloody Mummers had chopped off his hand and seared the wound with a torch. The only thing that had gotten Jaime through the pain and humiliation inflicted on him by Vargo Hoat and the scum he traveled with was thinking about Cersei and Tyrion. Jaime had made up his mind to give up and die more than once, as the pain from his infected stump overtook him, but thoughts of his brother and sister had given him the will to live. He'd survived. And now that he was so near Cersei, all Jaime could think of was going to her, taking her in his arms and making love to her. It had been far too long since they had been together. Jaime desperately needed her to make him feel alive.

As Jaime rode through the city, he was struck by the poverty that surrounded him. He could not remember a time when conditions were so poor in Kings Landing. Certainly war brought poverty, but conditions the likes of these were unfathomable. He had heard that his father, Tywin Lannister, had arrived in the city only yesterday, helping the King's forces to defeat Stannis Baratheon and drive him from the city. Jaime expected his father would take over responsibility for ruling the realm, leaving Joffrey as king in name only. From the looks of it, that would be for the best. Joffrey was obviously unfit to rule.

When Jaime reached the gates of the Red Keep, it took some time to convince the Goldcloaks of the City Watch that he was, in fact, Jaime Lannister. _I must look far worse than I realized._ Once he gained admittance, he quickly abandoned his escort and, given the late hour, hurried toward Cersei's bedchamber. He longed to be reunited with his twin; the woman that he loved with his whole heart. Jaime was surprised to see that her door was unguarded, and thought that perhaps she wasn't abed yet. From outside the door he heard sounds, the origins of which were unmistakable. Jaime quietly cracked the door, hoping that some servants had stolen away to the Queen's bedchamber for a private interlude.

Jaime knew he would never be able to wipe the image of what he saw in that room from his mind. Cersei was naked, astride an equally naked coarse-looking man. The man's hands were resting on her thighs as Cersei rode him, hard and rough. She was moaning in pleasure and threw back her head, her golden hair cascading over her back. The man moved his hands to roughly squeeze her perfect breasts.

Jaime reached for his sword, overwhelmed with the desire to kill them both, and banged his stump against the grip. A wave of shame overcame him and Jaime's pride wouldn't allow him to enter the room – he wasn't ready for Cersei to see the useless creature he had become. He'd crossed a thousand leagues to return to her, losing the best part of himself along the way, suffering untold pain and indignities and here she was, fucking someone else. Jaime closed the door, leaving silently as Cersei's lover moved her onto her hands and knees and began fucking her from behind, the both of them grunting with each thrust.

Jaime had given up everything for Cersei. He had joined the Kingsguard for her. He had given up Casterly Rock for her. He had no paternal affection for his children because she insisted he remain distant. Now, Jaime had nothing. Not even Cersei. Jaime had thought the Bloody Mummers broke him, but he now knew that wasn't true. What they had done to him was nothing compared to the pain he felt now at Cersei's betrayal. Jaime turned on his heel to seek out the only person left in the world that he truly loved.

As Jaime walked toward the Tower of the Hand in search of Tyrion, he heard a slashing noise and a woman's muffled cries. He turned a corner and saw a naked young woman, leaning against a table with her hands braced on the edge as Ser Meryn Trant stood behind her, whipping her. Hard enough to break her skin, from the looks of the angry red lines on her back. Jaime saw Joffrey watching with a predatory smile and a gleam in his eye as Ser Boros Blount stood behind him, his eyes lecherously roaming over the young woman's body. Joffrey's expression was so like Cersei's that Jaime had an almost uncontrollable impulse to strike him down. He reminded himself Joffrey was now king and settled for stopping the beating.

"What is the meaning of this?"

The young woman turned her head toward him for a moment and Jaime realized that she was just a girl – she was Ned Stark's oldest daughter. When recognition dawned in her eyes, she quickly turned her face away from him, looking at the ground, and moving her hands to try to cover herself.

"Sansa," Joffrey's arrogant voice rang out. "I have told you that you are not to move. My uncle is Lord Commander of the Kingsguard. There's no need for modesty with my guards."

Jaime watched as she obeyed, moving her hands to her sides and shaking with a clear desire to shield her body from view. She was young – just a teenager – but she had a woman's curves and both Joffrey and his guards clearly enjoyed gazing at her nude form. It would be bad enough if Joffrey were abusing some common whore but to treat a highborn lady this way was unacceptable. Jaime immediately removed his black wool cloak and wrapped it around her. The Stark girl wouldn't meet his gaze and he could plainly see the shame and humiliation on her face. Tears began to silently flow down her cheeks as her little fists held the cloak tightly closed around her body.

"What is going on here?" Jaime repeated. He turned to Joffrey. "Why are you having Lady Sansa beaten? Exposing her body? She is to be your queen."

Joffrey looked past Jaime at the Stark girl, his gaze filled with cruelty. "She's a Stark. They've all proven to be traitors. And she will be punished for their treachery."

Jaime raised an eyebrow at Joffrey's explanation. "I believe she's been punished enough."

"Your hand," Ser Meryn said, noticing Jaime's stump.

"I fight with the left now. Makes for a better competition." Jaime turned back to Sansa, and approached her gently. He hadn't paid much attention before to the girl whom Joffrey was to marry. Now, as he looked at her, he could see that she was quite beautiful, though her eyes were overflowing with tears and she still wouldn't look Jaime in the eye. "My lady, may I escort you to your chambers?"

Sansa glanced at him briefly with watery blue eyes and nodded. When she turned her head, Jaime saw blood running from her lip and a bruise forming on her cheek. Jaime felt his phantom hand twitch with a desire to hit someone. Joffrey looked as if he wanted to argue with Jaime about taking Sansa away and interrupting his fun, but Jaime's hard expression stopped him. Sansa hesitantly took Jaime's offered arm and allowed him to walk her to her bedchamber. They didn't say a word to one another as he walked her down the hallway and she continued to avoid his gaze. Jaime didn't know what to say to her; didn't know what words he could offer that would comfort her.

Jaime opened the door to her bedchamber and escorted her inside, walking her to a chair. He looked at the tears in her eyes and couldn't stop himself from kneeling down in front of her and gently wiping them away. Then he reached for a handkerchief and cleaned off the blood running down her chin. He knew what it was like to be a captive, surrounded by nothing but cruelty. To long for a moment of comfort and a gentle touch. He didn't expect Sansa Stark wanted comfort from the Kingslayer of all people, but he offered it anyway. Looking at this broken girl in front of him, Jaime realized that Joffrey – his son – was a monster. He was no different that the Mad King – savaging an innocent for his perverse amusement.

Jaime didn't notice her touch at first, because of the deadened nerves, but Sansa was lightly holding his injured arm. "Did my brother do this to you?" she asked in a shaky whisper.

Jaime watched her fingers softly stroke his forearm. His first instinct was to pull away the horrible stump, not wanting anyone to see it, but her gentle touch stopped him. He'd faced nothing but brutality for months and months – and he longed for comfort. And after all she'd been through, it was Sansa Stark, a near stranger, a girl who his family had tortured, who first touched him gently. "No, your brother didn't do this. It was…a difficult journey here."

"Did my brother free you?" she asked quietly, removing her hands from his arm. Absurdly, Jaime wished she would resume her soothing touches.

"No. Tyrion arranged for my escape."

"Oh," she said quietly. He could see disappointment in her expression. She must have been hoping that her brother had released him in exchange for her freedom. _There's likely to be no freedom for you anytime soon, little one._

He reached for the edge of the cloak, near her neck and began pulling it back to look at her injuries when she pushed his hand away. "Please don't."

"I'm not going to hurt you. I just want to see if you're injured."

Shook her head. "This wasn't that bad compared to the other times."

_The other times?_ Jaime hadn't looked closely at her body in the hallway, but he could see old bruises on her exposed arms. "I'd feel better if you'd let me -" he stopped, her shame at him seeing her so vulnerable and degraded apparent. "My lady, you have nothing to be ashamed of," he said softly, hesitantly resting his hand on her wrist. "You needn't be embarrassed of me seeing your body. You don't have anything I've not seen before," he said teasingly.

"Please don't …" she repeated, holding the cloak tighter around her, fresh tears forming in her eyes. She was shaking and Jaime noted that she still had not met his eyes once. _She probably thinks I will harm her, just as Joffrey did. That I want to get another look at her teats or that I'll grope her naked body._

"I'll leave you, then. Perhaps your maid will tend your injuries," he offered quietly.

Sansa nodded, still holding his cloak tight around her body, practically curled up in a ball. "Thank you for helping me, Ser Jaime," she said in a small voice as he rose to leave her chamber.

He smiled at her use of "Ser", and something made him take her hand and bring it to his mouth. "I'm at your service, my lady."

She finally looked up and met his eyes, a hint of a smile on her lips. Jaime had never seen eyes so big and so blue. And he had never seen a creature so vulnerable. Jaime found it difficult to leave her, his desire to protect this girl overwhelming him. Jaime had a mad impulse to station himself at her door and go no further. He forced himself to release her hand and walk away from her, closing the door to her chamber. Once the door closed, he heard her begin to cry and considered going back inside but did not. He left in search of Tyrion, resolving to see to it that Sansa Stark was never beaten again.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Jaime went to the Tower of the Hand, expecting to find Tyrion there, but instead found his father. The Lannister guards that were stationed throughout the tower directed Jaime to his father's solar. He was glad to find his father alone. Jaime wasn't looking forward to showing off his stump to Lord Tyrell.

"Jaime," his father said, as if they'd last seen each other at breakfast. "I had thought you'd be here when I arrived for the battle."

"I was delayed." Jaime closed the door softly. "How long have you known I was free?"

"The eunuch sent a raven a few days after your escape. I sent men into the Riverlands to look for you. Varys and I agreed that the fewer people who knew you were free, the fewer would be hunting you."

"Did Varys mention this?" He moved closer to the fire, to let his father see his missing hand.

Lord Tywin pushed himself out of his chair, breath hissing between his teeth. "_Who did this?_ If Robb Stark thinks – "

"This was your goat's work. Vargo Hoat, the Lord of Harrenhal."

Lord Tywin looked away, disgusted. "No longer. Ser Gregor's taken the castle. Hoat will be dead soon. Can you use a sword with your left hand?"

_I can hardly dress myself in the morning_. Jaime held up the hand in question for his father's inspection. "Four fingers, a thumb, much like the other. Why shouldn't it work as well?"

Lord Tywin glanced at Jaime's stump again. "You cannot serve in the Kingsguard without a sword hand- "

"I can," he interrupted. "There's precedent. Crippled or whole, a knight of the Kingsguard serves for life."

"Cersei ended that when she replaced Ser Barristan on grounds of age. I've already provided a suitable gift to the Faith to persuade the High Septon to release you from your vows. Your sister was foolish to dismiss Selmy, but now that she has opened the gates-"

"-someone needs to close them again." Jaime stood. "No one ever asked me if I wanted to be Lord Commander of the Kingsguard, but it seems I am. I have a duty – "

"You do." Lord Tywin rose as well. "A duty to House Lannister. You are the heir to Casterly Rock. That is where you should be. That is where you will be. I'll not hear any more of these disgusting rumors about you and your sister." In a flash of madness, Jaime wanted to tell him that they weren't rumors, that he'd been fucking his sister for as long as he could remember, but reason prevailed. "You will marry and you will breed. As will your sister."

_My sweet sister is breeding as we speak. _

"It is past time you were wed, Jaime. Past time for you to produce heirs. It would be a good match, politically -"

"NO!" Jaime had heard all he could stand. No, he had heard _more_ than he could stand. He was sick of it. Sick of lords and lies, sick of his father, his sister, sick of the whole bloody business. "No. No. No. How many times must I say no before you'll hear it? I'm a knight of the Kingsguard. The _Lord Commander_ of the Kingsguard!"

"You truly wish to spend the rest of your life following Joffrey's orders? I never thought you were such a fool." His father resumed his seat. "And it seems a waste for the Stark girl to be nothing more than Joffrey's whore."

Jaime looked at his father in surprise. "What do you mean, his whore? She's to be his queen. It's a fine line, I realize."

"Tomorrow, Joffrey will set aside Sansa Stark. Mace Tyrell provided his entire host to defeat Stannis Baratheon. He did so with the expectation that his daughter would be Joffrey's queen. But Joffrey has expressed a desire to keep Sansa Stark for his…amusement. I would prefer to marry her into our house. For her children to be our legitimate heirs. Once her brother Robb Stark is dead…well, then she'll be heir to Winterfell. Her children will be heirs to Winterfell."

Jaime immediately saw what his father was about. "You planned for me to marry Sansa Stark? She's a child."

"She's sixteen years old. And Joffrey could not refuse to let her go if it was to marry you."

"If I won't marry her, you plan to let him torment that girl? Rape her and beat her for his entertainment?"

"He is king. Your sister thinks it is better he have an outlet, rather than take it out on Margaery Tyrell, as her family would not take kindly to it. And I can't have Sansa Stark marrying into another house. It would be a waste but…at least if she's ruined, no other house will want her."

"Do you hear what you're saying? I realize that the lion doesn't concern himself with the opinion of the sheep but to allow Joffrey to use this girl in such a depraved manner would bring shame on our entire house. You can't allow this." Jaime didn't know why he was surprised. At the end of Robert's Rebellion, more than one innocent had been murdered at his father's direction.

"_You_ can stop it, Jaime. Claim her for yourself."

Jaime leaned forward resting his head on his hand. _Do I really want to serve Joffrey? He'll never stop tormenting that girl. He'll likely rape her every night. Maybe even offer her to others. _Jaime wasn't about to just sit by and watch, listen, while another king savaged an innocent. His father sensed Jaime's weakness, much like any lion can sense weakness in the herd.

"She'd make a fine wife for you, Jaime. She's young, she's beautiful. From what I hear, she's very gentle. Marry her and make her your Lady of Casterly Rock. The mother of your children – your heirs."

"Does Sansa Stark know about this? That you plan to marry her to me?"

"She doesn't have a choice. She'll do her duty to the crown. Will you do yours?"

"Surely there's someone else – some other Lannister relation you could marry her to." Jaime told himself that Sansa Stark wasn't his concern. That it was for Robb Stark to save his own sister. An image of Sansa Stark's watery blue eyes flashed in his head. _I can't allow this to happen. Not again._ Jaime met his father's eyes and could see that no other options would be offered to save Sansa from Joffrey's brutality. Jaime knew he made a mistake by allowing his father to see his desire to protect the girl. "I would leave here? Take the girl with me to Casterly Rock?" _At least I won't have to see Cersei. See what she's become._

His father relaxed, now that he was victorious. "You will leave after Joffrey's marriage to the Tyrell girl. Now that you are here, your betrothal will be announced tomorrow. And you and the Stark girl will marry as soon as possible. You will be released from your vows due to your injury –"

"No! You will not say that." Jaime refused to be humiliated. To be shown as weak before the entire realm. "If you must give a reason for my leaving the Kingsguard, let it be that the High Septon was so moved by my love for the Stark girl, he knew the gods would not keep us apart," Jaime suggested bitterly.

Tywin seemed amused. Not that he smiled. "As you wish. I must get back to my office…there are letters to be written and I must prepare for the presentation to the court tomorrow. Thank you, Jaime."

He sighed, rising from his seat. "Where's Tyrion? I'd like to see him."

…...

Jaime climbed several flights of stairs, until he finally reached the small room in Maeger's Holdfast where his father said Cersei was "seeing to Tyrion's health most carefully." _I'll just bet_, Jaime had thought, knowing how Cersei felt about Tyrion. Jaime found Tyrion lying in bed, a huge gash across his face.

He sat beside the bed as Tyrion opened his eyes. "It's been too long since I've seen you, brother," Jaime said with a fond smile.

Tyrion looked at him carefully. "It was back in Winterfell. Before this godforsaken war began. Where there were plenty of whores and plenty of wine. Are you going to share that?" he asked, looking longingly at the large jug of wine Jaime had brought with him.

As he poured them each a cup, Jaime grinned at his brother. "You did well, Tyrion. You freed me from Riverrun. You saved the city from Stannis Baratheon. I'm proud of you. I'm proud you're my brother. You just may turn out to be the true warrior in this family."

Tyrion sipped his wine, looking Jaime over. "I fear you're the only one who would give me any credit at all." Jaime saw Tyrion looking at his stump, and moved it from view, taking a large gulp of wine. "Perhaps I didn't free you soon enough, Jaime."

Jaime shook his head. "I encountered some of father's soldiers of fortune on the journey here. Turns out they weren't as loyal as he had thought. I'll have a new hand forged of gold and be good as new. Why shouldn't I fight with the left hand, instead of the right?" He refilled his cup, ignoring Tyrion's sympathetic look. Jaime knew Tyrion could see right through his bravado and he appreciated that his brother didn't comment on it.

"Will you get me out of here, Jaime? Away from our sweet sister." He held his cup out to Jaime for a refill. "I know she's responsible for this," he said, moving his hand over his scar. "That she ordered me killed. If I stay here for much longer, under her control, she'll finish what she started."

Jaime knew Cersei hated Tyrion, but he found it hard to believe that she would kill him. _Of course, she's already proven that I don't know her at all._ "I can ask father to move your chambers back to the Tower of the Hand. There's room. I'm having Sansa Stark's chambers moved there first thing in the morning."

"Sansa Stark," Tyrion asked curiously. "What concern is she of yours?"

"Tomorrow Joffrey will set aside Sansa Stark in favor of Margaery Tyrell. And I will be dismissed from the Kingsguard. Father had planned to dismiss me as a useless cripple. But now, I shall be released from my vows in order to marry my one true love. Sansa Stark."

Tyrion sipped his wine, looking at Jaime curiously, knowing there was more to the story. "Lady Sansa is a lovely girl. I had no idea that you were so enraptured. That you were so fond of her that you would leave the Kingsguard. In fact, I had no idea that you had exchanged more than two words with her."

"Joffrey had two of his guards beating Sansa outside his chambers. If I didn't agree to marry the girl, father and Cersei were going to let Joffrey have her. As a plaything." He turned to Tyrion. "I could not have stood by while another mad king savaged an innocent woman. Turned this girl into an outcast. His whore. There'd be no honor in serving in Joffrey's Kingsguard."

"Not long ago, after Robb Stark had a particularly good victory, Joffrey brought Sansa into the throne room, before the entire court, and had the Kingsguard strip her and beat her. I stopped him once I saw it but…he can't be watched all the time."

Jaime poured a third cup of wine. "Well, I can see to it that Sansa is protected. I know what it's like to be alone. With no hope. In pain. Wanting nothing more than a moment's kindness." Jaime looked at the ground self-consciously. "Sansa Stark needs protection. Perhaps this way I can be of some small use to someone." He looked at his useless stump, anger and humiliation taking hold of him again.

"What about Cersei? Have you spoken to our sweet sister? I wonder, how does she take the news of your impending nuptials."

Jaime hesitated. "I went to see her when I arrived and…she was fucking some oaf. It seemed the wrong time to speak to her," he said with a grim smile.

"Osmund Kettleblack. A new knight of the Kingsguard." He considered Jaime before continuing. "Also cousin Lancel, one of Kettleblack's brothers and I suspect several Lannister guards and Goldcloaks." The brothers sat in silence while Jaime drained another cup of wine, staring at his useless stump. "I'm sorry, Jaime."

"What for? What do I care if our sister's a whore?"

They both know that Tyrion has always known about the relationship between the twins, though they never spoke of it. "You've always been a romantic, brother. I'd say it's rather romantic that you are giving up the Kingsguard to save this girl." Jaime gave Tyrion a long-suffering look. "I don't mean that you love her, but…you are saving the girl from a terrible fate."

"I'm no hero, Tyrion. The truth is I've never liked court and…if I can help the Stark girl and get some peace…it seemed the right thing to do."

His brother smiled. "You should know that, for someone so young, she's built up some very thick walls around herself. I expect her courtesy will wear on your nerves but…it's her armor. Her way of protecting herself."

"She was so broken, so vulnerable when I saw her tonight. She'll be Lady of Casterly Rock; that should make her happy; to be lady of a large castle. She'll be far from Joffrey and I'll do what I can to see to her comfort. It's not as if I will have anything else to concern myself with after tomorrow. Sansa Stark may be my last chance for honor in this life."

...

_Thanks for reading! In the next chapter I'll pick up with Sansa and her perspective & Cersei and Jaime finally speak._


	3. Chapter 3

_Thanks to everyone for reading and for the reviews!_

...

Chapter 3

Jaime had drunk himself into a stupor and fallen asleep in a chair in Tyrion's small room. When he awoke, Jaime began walking to the Tower of the Hand to prepare for the afternoon's spectacle. He still wasn't certain that marrying the Stark girl was the right decision, but there was no going back now. As soon as he exited Maeger's Holdfast, Cersei appeared from the shadows.

"I thought you might be with our brother. Father told me you had returned. After such a long time apart…I had thought you would come to me." She knew him well enough to know that there had to be a reason why he didn't come to her. He always came to her.

Jaime wanted to tell her what he saw, how she'd hurt him, but the words wouldn't come out of his mouth. Perhaps it was because, part of him wanted to forget what he saw and take her in his arms. Her beauty still took his breath away. He longed for comfort, to hold her, to feel her hands on him. Despite his hurt, Jaime found it difficult to keep his anger. Thoughts of her had kept him alive; the thought of getting to her and being with her again. And here she was.

Jaime couldn't stop himself from walking towards her. He reached for her, but a wave of bitterness overtook him when he saw her glance toward his stump and flinch in unmistakable revulsion. As much as Jaime wanted comfort, his pride wouldn't allow him to embrace her after that. And the sight of her with Osmund Kettleblack, and the pain that went with it, was fresh again.

"I found I had no opportunity to come to you last night. I was with Father and Tyrion. And I came upon Joffrey from having Sansa Stark beaten for his amusement. Helping the girl took a bit of time. Have you made no efforts to control him? Or do you like the idea of another Mad King terrorizing the realm?"

Cersei was clearly taken aback by his hostility. "Do not speak of our son that way," she hissed.

"He's your son. You saw to that."

"Father tells me that you wish to leave the Kingsguard. That you are to marry the Stark girl. That you don't wish to be Joffrey's Lord Commander. You must tell him you changed your mind. I need you here. Father means to marry me off again. I won't agree, but he is adamant. Don't allow father to force you from the Kingsguard."

"He didn't have to force me," Jaime said, advancing on her. "You forget, I never wanted to join the Kingsguard. That was your idea. I had always planned to be a knight and then, when the time came, Lord of Casterly Rock. I gave you nearly 20 years of my life. That is far too long." Jaime knew he was provoking her anger, but he couldn't help himself. "Sansa Stark will make a beautiful Lady of the Rock. It's a much better use for her than your plan. To make her Joffrey's whore."

"Joffrey is King. He should have anything he wants. Why do you act as if you care for the Starks all of a sudden? As if you are such a good, caring man. Who was it that threw the Stark boy from that tower? It wasn't me." Her eyes narrowed. "Father said you had suffered an injury but now that I see it…you certainly couldn't serve in the Kingsguard any longer. Nor fight in any battles. You can't even compete in tournaments. I suppose that you _are_ only fit to breed now." Cersei meant to hurt him and she hit her mark.

Jaime placed his left hand on her throat. "I wager I could crush your throat with this hand as well as the other. Shall we see?"

Cersei angrily shoved him away. "Tell me, brother, what do you mean by having Sansa moved to the Tower of the Hand? She's _my_ hostage."

"By the end of the day, she'll be betrothed to me and your hostage no longer. I can do with her as I like. I won't have her beaten or tortured. Not by you, not by Joffrey. Not by anyone."

"Deep down, you've always wanted to be the hero, haven't you? I suppose the girl will be happy to let you be her honorable knight. She's stupid enough to believe in that sort of thing. To think a man will come and rescue her. She may even like you…until you try to bed her, of course. Then the sweet little Stark girl will fear you. You can't believe that she wants be fucked by a man she barely knows, crippled and old enough to be her father." Cersei looked down at his stump. "Take care not to scare her with that."

Jaime watched as Cersei turned, her skirts swirling behind her, leaving him alone. He told himself that she was angry and lashing out, but he couldn't fight off the shame and humiliation that overcame him as he stood in the hall. She wasn't wrong – he wasn't a warrior anymore. He wasn't good for much of anything. He was being put out to pasture with this marriage and trip back to Casterly Rock.

He thought about Sansa Stark and wondered if she would be disgusted by his stump as Cersei was. She had touched him last night without disgust. But, that was before she knew he was to be her husband. Jaime looked down at his stump. _Cersei may be right. Being bedded by a one-handed man old enough to be her father may not be any more appealing than being bedded by Joffrey. _Jaime supposed that once the marriage was consummated, she didn't have to share his bed again if it repulsed her.

Jaime held no illusions about the marriage he was about to embark on. It was said that lord and ladies found love after they married, but given the history between their families, Jaime knew that would not happen for he and Sansa. Besides, Jaime wasn't able to love her. Wasn't able to love anyone but Cersei. _In time, perhaps Sansa will see that binding her to him in a loveless marriage was a kindness, compared to what her fate could have been. _

…...

Sansa sat in her bedchamber, and watched several handmaidens packing up all of her belongings. They told her that her chambers were being moved to the Tower of the Hand, but she had not been told why. She couldn't stop the fear from taking hold of her, as she wondered what fresh hell the Lannisters were about to inflict upon her. When she had first been betrothed to Joffrey – knowing that she would be queen someday – that was the happiest Sansa had ever been. She never dreamed that the sweet would turn sour so quickly.

The pain of the beatings and whippings no longer affected her as it once did. What hurt the most was the way Joffrey degraded her. It wasn't enough for him to have her beaten by his guards. He'd taken to forcing her to strip naked – not just in front of him, but in front of his guards as well – before being beaten. She was in constant fear that one day Joffrey would go beyond just stripping her and would actually defile her. Once, he had forced her to kiss him as she stood there naked, waiting for his guards to strike her. She could feel the eyes of his guards on her body – could see their lust.

Every night, Sansa prayed to the seven that Robb would come for her. He was a King now, just like Joffrey. Surely Robb would rescue his own sister. When she learned that her brother had captured Jaime Lannister, she had thought that he would make a deal with the Lannisters – that he would trade the Kingslayer for her. That hope died last night when Ser Jaime told her that he had not been freed by her brother – but had escaped. She knew now that she would never be free. She was doomed to wed Joffrey and go to his bed; doomed to be forever at his mercy.

She supposed Ser Jaime's return was not all bad. He was Lord Commander of the Kingsguard and he had protected her last night. _Maybe he will be different from the others. Maybe he will make them stop. _She shook her head, telling herself that was ridiculous. She'd heard rumors that he was Joffrey's father. If it was true, he would not stop his son from doing as he pleased.

Still, he had helped her last night. It had been kind of him to try to comfort her. When he'd kissed her hand, she'd met his eyes, and she had seen kindness, not cruelty. After he left, Sansa had crawled onto her bed, still wrapped in Jaime Lannister's black wool cloak, and cried herself to sleep. Her only hope now was that Ser Jaime would not allow the Kingsguard to harm her.

"You have heard that my brother Jaime returned to us last night?" The queen's voice interrupted her thoughts, and Sansa looked at her warily.

"Yes, your grace. I saw him last night."

"Then you saw that he is not the fierce warrior that he was. The war has left him a bitter grotesque, a cripple. He's lost his sword hand. Without it…what is he good for? That horrible stump…" Sansa realized that the queen was speaking more to herself than to Sansa and remained quiet. Cersei seemed to remember herself, and turned back to Sansa. "He's nowhere near as glorious…as perfect as he was. He'll do well enough for you, little dove."

"What do you mean, your grace?"

"You are to marry Jaime and we shall be sisters now," Cersei said sweetly. "You should count your blessings. Had he not agreed…well, you wouldn't have liked the alternative."

"I don't understand. I am to marry my beloved Joffrey."

Cersei looked at her in annoyance. "You are truly stupid, aren't you? Today, before everyone, Joffrey will set you aside for Margaery Tyrell." Cersei's eyes narrowed. "It would not do for a traitor's daughter to be Joffrey's Queen. And Lord Tyrell has been most generous in defending Joffrey's throne. The High Septon has been consulted, and he agrees that your betrothal to Joffrey will no longer be recognized by the gods."

Sansa looked down, not wanting her joy and relief at not having to marry and be bedded by Joffrey to show. Though…she did not want to marry the Kingslayer either. She looked up when the queen grabbed her arm harshly.

"You will not humiliate my son, do you understand me? You will show the appropriate regret at not being good enough to be his queen. And then my brother will most generously offer to wed you himself. You will act appropriately today or there will be consequences."

"Is that why my chambers are being moved?"

"That's Jaime's doing. Beginning today, he's free to do with you as he likes. I suppose some would say you are lucky. For years, every woman in the seven kingdoms wished to lie on her back for Jaime Lannister. Now you will do so whenever he wants you, such as he is." Cersei looked as if she wanted to say more, but she rose and left Sansa's bedchamber almost as quickly as she had arrived.

_I don't want to marry a Lannister._ Sansa owned that marrying Jaime was preferable to marrying Joffrey. He protected her last night. He was kind to her. He seemed to understand her shame. When she'd all but begged him not to look at her injuries, he'd relented. And he had kissed her hand, as a gallant knight should. She thought about Cersei's words and felt a tremor of fear. Now she'd have to go to Kingslayer's bed.

_What if the rumors are true and he has been bedding the queen – his own sister – and he is Joffrey's father? _Joffrey had to get his cruelty from somewhere. She hoped that it wasn't from Ser Jaime.

Sansa knew that she had no choice in the matter. That she would be forced to marry Jaime Lannister whether she wanted to or not. _Why won't Robb come for me? _Sansa blinked back her tears. She felt so abandoned. _I'll never be free of the Lannisters. I'll never see my family or Winterfell again. _Sansa would make the best of things with Ser Jaime and be grateful that at least the gods answered her prayers to free her from her betrothal to Joffrey. She had to stop dreaming of a rescue; stop dreaming that she would be happy. She had to think of survival.

...

Later that day, Sansa stood in the throne room, watching Joffrey grandly and formally welcome Tywin Lannister to Kings Landing as Hand of the King. She was nervous that she would say the wrong thing or that Joffrey would change his mind and force her to marry him after all. She glanced over at Ser Jaime, curiously and wondered how he felt about their betrothal. He must have felt her gaze because he met her eyes and Sansa quickly looked away, feeling her face heat.

Sansa listened as Ser Loras requested that Joffrey marry his sister Margaery; and as Margaery spoke of her love for the King and the tales she had heard of his bravery. _Tales indeed_, Sansa thought, having heard that Joffrey fled the battle when it appeared they might lose. _If only the Lannisters had lost. _She felt a thrill in her stomach that she was careful not to betray when the High Septon released Joffrey from his betrothal to her and he agreed to wed Margaery Tyrell.

Ser Jaime stepped forward, as planned, from where the knights of the Kingsguard stood, bowing before Joffrey. "Your grace, I have observed that Lady Sansa Stark is true, loyal and pure. She is a rare treasure in a world where other women stray." Jaime seemed to be looking at the Queen as he spoke these words. "Memories of Lady Sansa's beauty, and her gentle nature gave me the will to survive my imprisonment." He looked at Sansa then and gave her a small smirk, clearly betraying how ridiculous he thought this spectacle was before turning back to the King. "I beg of you, your grace, release me from my vows, so that I may make her my lady wife."

Joffrey looked at Jaime, clearly enjoying his role. "Uncle, I am moved by your words. If the High Septon approves it, I gladly release you from your vows, so that you may be united with sweet Sansa, the object of your affection."

The High Septon stepped forward yet again. "Your grace, the gods would never condone separating Ser Jaime, a brave warrior who has served the realm with much devotion, from the maiden he has admired from afar. He is released from his vows to the Kingsguard, so that he may marry Lady Sansa."

Sansa took a deep breath, stepping forward as Jaime took her hand, and said what the queen told her to say. "I will always love my king, but I know that he deserves better than a traitor's daughter as his queen." She looked at Jaime. "I am fortunate that a man as handsome and brave as Ser Jaime would love me and take me as his wife.

Sansa knew that this was all planned, and for show, but she couldn't help thinking how romantic it would be if it were true. She knew that songs would be written about this day; about she and Ser Jaime. Only they would know that none of it was true. She wondered if any of the love songs she knew were true. Or if they were all a farce, as this was.

She'd hardly recognized Ser Jaime yesterday, but today he was back to his normal appearance. She looked over at him again and took in his appearance. The queen had said that Jaime wasn't as glorious as he once was. But Sansa thought glorious was the perfect word to describe him. He was dressed in his white armor of the Kingsguard for the last time. His undeniably handsome face was freshly scrubbed and shaved. A golden hand, newly forged by the armorer, was affixed to the end of his right wrist, concealing the stump where his sword hand used to be. Sansa could almost believe that Jaime was the handsome knight who had come to save her. Just as they always did in the songs. Almost. Perhaps if he weren't a Lannister.

Sansa looked at Jaime's face, trying to see a resemblance to Joffrey, but other than his coloring, she didn't think they looked at all alike, much to her relief. Joffrey was a snotty, vicious boy while Ser Jaime was a grown man, strong and handsome. As her eyes roamed over Jaime's face, his green eyes met hers and Sansa immediately looked away from his intense gaze. She felt a shiver run through her body. _I have no choice in this but, I wonder why he's leaving the Kingsguard and marrying me? _She stole another curious glance at Ser Jaime and thanked the seven for freeing her from Joffrey.

...

_Hope you liked it. Jaime and Sansa will get a chance to speak to one another about thier engagement in the next chapter..._


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Jaime could scarce hold his tongue through the hideous spectacle of Joffrey's betrothal to Margaery Tyrell and his own betrothal to Sansa Stark. He wondered what sort of idiot would not realize that it was a complete farce. As Joffrey addressed his subjects, Jaime couldn't help noticing Sansa Stark's curious looks at him, and her soft blushes when he caught her. _It appears young Sansa Stark is not as heartbroken over the loss of her King as she might have everyone believe._ And no wonder, given what Jaime had interrupted the night before. Jaime wondered if the girl knew that he would treat her better than Joffrey had. Whatever her thoughts, she studiously avoided meeting his eyes for very long. He wondered if it was the shyness of a young maiden or genuine fear. Given all that his family had done to hers, Jaime included, he owned that she had every reason to fear him. Perhaps she'd realize that there was no reason to be afraid once she was assured that he was not going to beat or humiliate her.

Jaime spoke to his father briefly before turning to escort his future wife to the Tower of the Hand. As he walked over to collect Sansa, Jaime realized that they had not exchanged a word since their brief conversation in her chambers after he stopped Joffrey from having her beaten. _I wonder how she feels about marrying the Kingslayer?_ As Jaime approached her, he saw that Joffrey was speaking to her in a low, menacing voice.

"Don't be disappointed, Sansa. You won't be my queen, but you can still be my whore." He saw Sansa shrink away from Joffrey, her eyes darting around in fear as he grabbed her wrist. "My uncle will bring you to my bed when I want you."

Jaime walked up, resting his hand on the back of Joffrey's neck, and saw that the boy king immediately released Sansa'a arm. "Sweet of you to welcome _my_ intended to the family, Joff. You won't mind if I steal her away." He squeezed Joffrey's neck in warning. "Will you?" Without waiting for a response, Jaime took Sansa by the arm and led her from the throne room. Jaime knew he was one of the few people Joffrey actually feared and obeyed – the other being Tywin Lannister.

Sansa rested her hand on his arm and he could see that she was shaking. Jaime could see that the poor girl thought he was going to share her with Joffrey – that he would allow Joffrey to bed her. He felt Sansa clutch his arm more securely. "Lovely performance in there, my lady," he said with a smirk. "You almost made me believe that you were sad to lose Joffrey as your betrothed."

"I love Joffrey and I will always be loyal to him as my one true king." She stated this in a monotone, as if she were repeating something she'd been forced to memorized, which told him she didn't believe it.

"And what about me? Will you not love your husband," he asked with mock hurt, unable to resist the urge to play with her a little.

She seemed stumped for a moment. Clearly her septa never covered this situation. "I…I am grateful to you for agreeing to marry me, as I am not fit to be queen. I'm sure I will grow to love you, my lord."

Jaime rolled his eyes. _Such a proper young lady. Pity she's being married to a decidedly improper man._ He feared Sansa was going to try his patience. "We both know that you don't love Joffrey. How could you, after the way he's treated you? Have you forgotten that I've seen his cruelty to you with my own eyes?"

She looked down at the reminder of the scene Jaime had walked in on the night before. "Anything he has done is my fault. My father was a traitor, as are my mother and brother-"

"I don't think you really believe that. Don't say words you don't mean just because you think I'd like to hear them," he said quietly. "I won't harm you. And I won't allow anyone else to harm you, Sansa. There's not much I can promise you, but I promise you that." She met his gaze and it seemed to Jaime that she was trying to determine if he spoke the truth about not harming her. "We'll marry in a few days and then you'll be in my bed," he said with a smirk. "There'll be no room for Joffrey."

He watched her nervously swallow at his mention of them sharing a bed. "You heard what he said to me just now?" she asked quietly.

"I did. And I will not be bringing you to his chamber. King or no."

She looked at him as if she did not dare believe him. "Thank you for moving my chamber to the Tower of the Hand," she said with a shaky voice. "I know now why you did. To protect me from him," she said in a whisper, hesitantly holding his gaze.

Jaime began to feel uncomfortable with her gratitude. He could plainly see in her eyes that she saw him as her savior. He wasn't a hero. He wasn't a good man. She shouldn't think that he is. "I should think you would have learned by now that knights are not romantic heroes."

She looked away from him then. "Yes. I have." His tone was harsher than he intended, but he didn't want her to believe he was something that he wasn't. She'd only be disappointed later.

"You'll dine with Tyrion and myself tonight. The rest of my family will be occupied with the Tyrells. I'm sure you'll be beside yourself with regret at their absence," he said dryly. _Tyrion was right. Her courtesy is already wearing on me. Perhaps some wine will ease her courtesy? _He looked down at her. _Quite a bit of wine._

...

That evening, Jaime reclined on the sofa in his solar, and looked over at his future wife. She sat in a chair near him, sipping at a glass of wine while he and Tyrion made up for the time they had been apart. She didn't participate in their conversation much, mainly listening to their stories. Jaime noticed her repeated glances at him through her lashes. Each time he would look up and meet her eyes, she would blush and look away from him. Tyrion was telling them stories about his trip to the Wall, and his foray into battle with their father. Jaime noticed with amusement that Sansa did shock quite easily, based upon her reaction to his brother's stories.

"Brother, it appears your tales are scandalizing my future bride."

"Not at all," she said, politely.

"You don't honestly expect me to believe that you're enjoying stories about pissing off the Wall." Jaime noticed that she at least had enough spirit to glare at him for what he was certain she would call his "filthy mouth."

"Jaime, give Sansa a few days to get used to our company before you start your teasing. The Lannisters could use a bit of her courtesy. I think I will bid you both good night." He rose and took Sansa's hand. "Good night, my lady," he said, kissing her hand. "You will be a welcome addition to this lion's den."

Jaime watched as Sansa smiled faintly at Tyrion's courtesy. "Good night," she murmured quietly. Once they were alone, Jaime turned and considered his young future bride.

"Come sit beside me, Sansa." She did as he asked, sitting beside him on the sofa, visibly nervous. He wondered if her nervousness was due to them being alone, or their proximity to one another. Perhaps both. Jaime drained his cup of wine and looked over at Sansa, meeting her eyes. "Are you eagerly anticipating our wedding?"

"Of course, Ser Jaime. I can scarce wait to become your bride."

Jaime sighed in annoyance. "You are far too proper for my liking, Sansa. Speak your mind. You won't be beaten." She took a sip of wine, uncertain as to what he wanted. "I'll ask again, my lady. Do you look forward to marrying me?"

"I do, Ser Jaime," she said quietly.

"I've told you there's no need to lie, my lady."

"I'm not lying. I believe I would rather marry you than Joffrey. I don't…I don't think you'll treat me as he did. And I don't think you'll allow him to hurt me." She spoke these last words so quietly he could barely hear her. It struck him as rather tragic that the best this girl could hope for was a husband who wouldn't beat her. It appeared love was no longer something she expected. _She'll be happier that way, in the end. Love only brings pain, _he thought, recalling Cersei's betrayal and harsh words from only hours earlier.

"I won't harm you, Sansa," he said seriously. "You say you'd rather marry me than Joffrey. But if it were up to you, you'd rather not marry either of us, am I right?"

It appeared her courtesy wouldn't allow her to answer _that_ question truthfully. "Do you look forward to marrying me?" she asked hesitantly.

He couldn't hold back the smirk at her turning the tables on him. "I believe I do."

"Why? Why would you want to marry me?"

How could he tell her that when he'd seen her the other night, Cersei's betrayal had left him just as broken as she was? That he'd been forced to listen as the Mad King raped his own wife, and Jaime had not been allowed to help her because Aerys was king? That saving Sansa from that fate – being raped and beaten by a cruel king - might be his last chance to prove that he did have some honor.

"Because I know that once you are my wife, I'll never have to see the _honorable_ knights of the Kingsguard brutalizing you again."

He sighed as he saw the hero worship in her eyes at his answer. Clearly the girl was eagerly searching for a hero. He hadn't intended to inspire that; but he spoke the truth. Jaime felt her move closer to him and looked down to see her looking at his golden hand. "Did it hurt terribly when this happened?" she asked, lightly touching his golden fingers.

"More than I ever thought possible." He found his mind drifting back to the cruelty he suffered while held captive by the Bloody Mummers. Along with it, he recalled how thoughts of Cersei had pulled him through and what he'd seen when he returned to her. His distress must have shown on his face, because Sansa rested her hand on him, lightly stroking his arm.

"You don't have to talk about it, Ser Jaime. I'm sorry. I see it distresses you."

He looked at Sansa, who was leaning against him, just barely, and absently running her hand over his arm in a comforting way. She was a pretty little thing. He could plainly see that she admired him. Perhaps Cersei was wrong and his little bride would welcome him to her bed, and not recoil in disgust. He expected nothing would anger his sister more than Jaime finding pleasure with Sansa in his bed.

He looked down at her hand on his arm, then back at her face, raising his eyebrow in question. She seemed to realize that she was touching him rather familiarly and removed her hand as if she were touching a flame. Jaime couldn't help smiling at her reaction. "It's getting late. Will you allow me to walk you to your chamber, my lady?"

She nodded, rising from the sofa and walking beside him. As they walked the short distance to her chamber, Jaime wondered if she intended her little touches to be flirtatious or not. She seemed rather innocent to him. She certainly wasn't capable of the calculating use of seduction that Cersei employed.

"Good night, Ser Jaime," she said, a hint of a smile on her lips, as they reached her door.

Jaime wasn't sure what possessed him, but he couldn't resist pushing his courteous little wife-to-be a bit. "I've thought on one other reason why I'm looking forward to marrying you. I won't have to leave you at your door." He leaned forward to whisper near her ear. "As my wife, you'll share my bed." He noticed her shiver at the feel of his breath against her neck. "Are you cold, my lady?" he asked with mock concern, as her reaction to him confirmed her innocence.

She took a step away from him, her back meeting her chamber door, a mixture of fear and wanting in her eyes. "I'm not cold." Jaime could plainly see her interest in him in the way she looked at him, though she was rather skittish. It was that interest which encouraged him to push her a little. It would certainly make it easier when he bedded her on their wedding night.

"You're not cold? Then why are you shivering?" he asked, deliberately making his voice a low, seductive whisper. Her blue eyes were bright and her cheeks had a fetching flush from the alcohol. Jaime rested his hand on the door behind her, effectively trapping her with his body, and leaned very close to her. He watched as she hesitantly met his gaze and reddened further. It had been a long time since Jaime was this close to a blushing maiden.

_She will be my wife – and in my bed – in only a couple of days. _Jaime supposed he would be within his rights to kiss her. He hadn't been with a woman in nearly a year and the temptation to touch Sansa, just a little, was near overwhelming. Jaime moved closer to her, nuzzling his nose past her fiery hair and against her neck, smiling as he heard her breath catch. She smelled so clean and fresh, and female. He placed a gentle kiss below her ear. He had intended to leave it at that, but being so close to her, Jaime couldn't resist. He kissed her neck again, hearing her gasp.

Jaime moved his mouth from her neck, his lips hovering over hers. She was watching him carefully, though the desire in her eyes was plain to see. He rubbed his nose against hers before moving away from her mouth and innocently kissing her forehead. "Goodnight, my lady," he whispered as he turned her around and sent her into her room.

Jaime stood outside her door for a few moments. Now that he had spent some time with Sansa and heard Joffrey's predatory threats towards her, Jaime had little doubt that he made the right decision to leave Kings Landing and take her with him as his wife. Loras Tyrell could deal with Joffrey's depravity. Some woman would have to be Lady of Casterly Rock. Why not the Stark girl? Sansa was good-natured, though he'd have to break her of some of her courtesies. _That might be a rather entertaining task_, he thought, remembering her shocked looks at his conversation with Tyrion. Jaime turned and walked back toward his chamber. Perhaps he wouldn't be quite so bored as Lord of Casterly Rock as he had thought.


	5. Chapter 5

_Thanks for reading and for the reviews, favorites and follows. Hope you like the update!_

_..._

Chapter 5

Sansa tucked herself into a window seat in the Tower of the Hand, and stared into the early morning darkness. Ever since she had watched her father die, Sansa had not slept well. And her anxiety only increased as Joffrey became crueler and more violent towards her. She was afraid to completely let her guard down, afraid to let sleep claim her, lest he pick that moment to come and rape her. She felt much safer being in the Tower of the Hand – with Ser Jaime nearby – but she still didn't feel completely safe. It was strange to her that she found the presence of Jaime Lannister to be a comfort.

Sansa had spent a great deal of time watching Jaime with his brother the night before, as she tried to figure out the sort of man he was – whether he'd be kind to her or cruel. She had seen the genuine affection between the Lannister brothers – much like Robb and Jon Snow - and she found it reassuring that someone cared for Jaime and that he genuinely cared for another. He couldn't be all bad.

As Sansa looked around the empty tower, she thought about the time she spent living there with her father and Arya. She wished more than anything that she could go back to that time with her family. She thought about how she had fought with her father and her sister – over Joffrey of all people - and was filled with regret. She remembered the doll that her father gave her when they first arrived in Kings Landing and how she had complained that she wasn't a child anymore. Now, she would give anything to go back to being a little girl. She would give anything to go back to having a family.

She supposed that the Lannisters would soon be her family, but it wasn't a comfort. Tyrion was kind to her. And Jaime…well, she did like Jaime. Probably more than she should.

Sansa heard someone stirring, which surprised her because it was so early. The sun had not even risen. She saw that Jaime was dressed and leaving the tower. Sansa wandered after him – partly because she was curious about where he was going, and partly because she did not wish to be far from his protection. She knew that she shouldn't trust him to protect her as much as she did, but when she met his eyes, she saw kindness and a genuine desire to help her. She hoped she wasn't trusting the wrong person again.

As Sansa followed behind Jaime, she thought back to last night and how he had said goodnight to her at her door. She had never been so close to a man, other than her father. Being close to Jaime was nothing like that. She was nervous being close to Jaime. When he had spoken of them sharing a bed in only a few days, Sansa's whole body had trembled. She wasn't sure if it was fear or anticipation. All she knew was that her body was aware of Ser Jaime in a way that it had never been aware of any man. No man had ever made her stomach flutter as he did. Of course, no man had ever spoken to her as he did.

She would die if Ser Jaime found out, but as she'd lain in her bed, all she could think about was what it would feel like to lie in his arms and she had wondered what it would be like when he bedded her. Her mother and septa had both spoken to her, very generally, about the marriage bed, but Sansa wasn't entirely clear on the details. She and Ser Jaime were to be married tomorrow and Sansa was beginning to feel a bit scared at the prospect of being Jaime Lannister's wife. She'd never thought she'd marry and be bedded by a man who was so much older, and more powerful than she. She longed to see her mother. She always thought her mother would be there to prepare her for her wedding night and her marriage.

As Sansa continued to follow Jaime through the Red Keep, she realized that he was going to the practice field behind the White Tower, where all of the knights practice sword fighting. She made an effort to be quiet as she trailed behind him – she expected that no one else was awake and the castle was almost silent. She tried to stay out of sight, watching Jaime select a tourney sword. She wondered why, since he had a sword sheathed at his waist. She hid in the shadows and watched him, not understanding why he was here alone, so early in the morning.

She watched Jaime as he tested his grip on several swords – using his left hand – before he selected one. Then he swung it. And she understood. Now that she'd seen the effort it took, and saw how inelegant he was – even to her untrained eye – she understood that he must not want others to know how weak his left hand was. The Kingslayer, the best sword in the seven kingdoms, could barely even swing a sword.

Sansa didn't want to shame Ser Jaime, so she stayed where he couldn't see her as he swung at a practice dummy. She felt a wave of sympathy for him, as he was clearly struggling and becoming frustrated. _He must know that it will take time to gain strength in his left arm and to learn to use his left hand to fight. _But it appeared he didn't. This went on for nearly an hour until Sansa could take it no more and hesitantly revealed her presence, walking over to him.

"Perhaps that's enough practice for today," she said, gently.

He was visibly surprised and annoyed at her presence, turning to face her as he wiped the sweat from his brow. "How long have you been watching?"

"I followed you from the tower." Sansa was worried that he was angry and shrank back a little.

"So you have seen how useless your future husband is," he spat out, his irritation clear. "I'm sorry if it shames you. A pretty young girl like you should not be forced to wed a cripple. The bloody Lannisters couldn't even give you a whole man."

There were so many emotions running through his eyes that Sansa had no idea what to say to him. She wasn't used to comforting grown men. And certainly not a man as volatile as Jaime Lannister. She heard him murmur something to himself about not even being a man and that he should have just died at Harrenhal, as he put the sword away, and Sansa felt that she must say something.

She stepped in front of him, forcing him to look at her, and she took in the mix of shame, anger and fear on his face. It was the fear in his eyes that gave her the strength to touch him. She hesitantly touched his arm. When he allowed her to touch him, she raised her shaking hand to his cheek, rubbing her thumb over his face, part of her still terrified to touch him when he was so emotional – not knowing if he would accept the comfort she offered or lash out at her in anger. Jaime was visibly surprised at first, but after a moment he leaned into her touch. "You're not useless. You've done more for me than anyone has since my father died. I see that you're stubborn, and I know you will get better with a sword. You're the best swordsman in the seven kingdoms."

"No longer."

She moved her hand from his face. "Your hand will get stronger and you will again be the swordsman you were before. Until then, you're not any less of a man. Not to me."

She thought perhaps she said something wrong as he advanced towards her and Sansa backed away, feeling the castle wall at her back. "You think so, little one? I don't even feel alive right now," he said, gazing into her eyes. "My whole life, I've only really felt alive in battle and in bed. It seems my days of battling are over. Bedding you is my last chance to feel alive." She feels herself blush bright red at his words. "It seems all of my last chances lie with you," he murmured quietly.

She had no idea how to respond to his words, though she couldn't help wondering what he expected her to do in his bed that would make him feel alive. Or what he meant when he said that all of his last chances depended on her.

"Do me a kindness, Sansa. Don't tell anyone what you saw. That the Kingslayer can't even swing a sword."

"I won't tell anyone. I – I'm to be your wife. I will keep your secrets." Jaime wrapped an arm around her waist and looked at her with an intensity that frightened her. "The – the, um, the castle should be waking soon," she tumbled out, unable to break his gaze. "Perhaps we should return to the tower."

Jaime smiled a devilish smile at her, moving even closer to her. "I don't think I'm ready to have you out of my arms just yet, my lady."

"You should release a lady when she asks." Her voice sounded strong, but inside she was a trembling mess. Even she could see the desire in his eyes and she wasn't sure what she was supposed to do.

He chuckled softly, running a finger down her neck. "Don't worry, Sansa. I won't harm you. I just want to play with you a little." Before she could respond, Jaime covered her mouth with his own.

She didn't expect him to kiss her. And she certainly didn't expect it to feel good. She'd only ever been kissed by Joffrey, and while she had liked it when he first kissed her, those memories were long buried beneath the terror and shame that she associated with every other time he had kissed her.

Kissing Jaime was nothing like that. He was much gentler and slower than she expected, for being such a fierce warrior. _A fierce lion_, she corrected. He moved his lips over hers slowly. Once Sansa got over the surprise of Jaime kissing her, she began to mimic his movements, slowly kissing him back.

Sansa dug her fingers into his jacket, as her knees began to feel weak. She felt Jaime's tongue pressing against her lips and slowly opened her mouth allowing his tongue entrance. As his tongue moved over hers, Sansa was mortified to hear herself moan in the back of her throat. Jaime moved his mouth from hers, with a smile. "I see you're not entirely the proper lady." She narrowed her eyes at him and he kissed her softly once more before moving his mouth to her neck. "I've seen the wanton way you look at me," he murmured with a smile playing at his lips. He kissed her once more. "I should get you back to the tower before I compromise you too much...though from the looks of you, I think you'd rather like to be compromised."

She glared at him, too scandalized by his comments to respond, pulling her arm away from his and stalking back towards Tower of the Hand with Jaime trailing along behind her. She could hear him chuckling to himself, and she was not amused. _He_ had kissed _her_, yet somehow he was mocking her as wanton for responding to him. She didn't understand how that happened. She wanted to point out that he looked at her with desire in his eyes, but it hadn't occurred to her until she stalked away. Sansa quickly walked ahead of him, thinking about clever things she could have said to him, had she thought of them.

She stopped suddenly, drawing back as she saw Ser Meryn and Ser Boros walking towards her. Ser Boros didn't pay her much attention, other than openly appraising her body, but Ser Meryn moved towards her.

"Well, if it isn't the Lannisters' little whore. I wonder if they'll continue to pass you around? Perhaps when Jaime tires of you, he can give you to his father. Or the imp."

Sansa looked around. She'd obviously gotten too far ahead of Jaime in her irritation. "You can't talk to me that way anymore," she said in a low voice, fear coursing through her.

"You're very high and mighty, now that you've got some clothes on you." He leaned closer to her. "But I have a good memory. You think I don't remember exactly what your teats look like? Or how red the hair is covering your -"

"Say one more word to her and I'll stick this sword so far inside you they'll never recover it." Sansa glanced back at Jaime and was startled to see that his face was etched in anger. His tone of voice alone was terrifying. She glanced at Ser Meryn and saw uncertainty and fear. Ser Boros had stepped back, not at all interested in challenging the Kingslayer, but Ser Meryn was stubborn.

Jaime reached toward her with the golden hand. He couldn't grab her with it, but he used it to push her behind him as he approached Ser Meryn. Sansa stood behind Jaime, and saw now that he clutched his sword in his left hand. Jaime's voice was full of menace as he addressed Ser Meryn. "You took a vow to protect the innocent. Tell me, how does beating and tormenting a young girl fulfill that vow?"

"The King ordered it."

"I see. And if the king ordered your sister to service all 50,000 Lannister soliders? If he ordered you to run a sword through your father, you'd happily do that as well?" It seemed the knight didn't have an answer for that. "Tomorrow Lady Sansa becomes my wife. You'll not so much as look at her ever again, do you understand me? Neither of you."

Ser Boros nodded. "I understand," Ser Meryn ground out.

"I hope so. Or else I'll remove your head myself. And Cersei will have to find Joffrey a new thug. Go."

The two knights couldn't get away fast enough. Jaime turned to her and she looked at the sword in his hand. "At least the legend of Jaime Lannister being good with a sword lives on."

"What if he had challenged you?"

Jaime smiled bitterly. "Then I wager it would have been a very embarrassing display. Are you all right?" She nodded. "They won't speak to you again, I assure you."

What had she done to deserve this man as her protector? She couldn't deny that Jaime Lannister scared her a little. She'd never seen one man go through so many emotions in such a short space of time. Just minutes ago, on the practice field, he'd been absolutely broken, in despair over how useless he believed he was. Then he had turned teasing and flirtatious as he kissed her. And when he'd spoken to Ser Meryn, he was absolutely terrifying in his anger.

"Will you walk beside me now, or are you still cross? Perhaps another kiss would turn your mood around?"

She scowled at him and he chuckled, offering his arm. "Come, Sansa. We've caused enough trouble for one day." She reluctantly took his arm, and allowed him to walk her back to the tower, as her mind raced, trying to make sense of Jaime and all of his contradictions.

"Thank you. It – it means a lot to have someone here who will protect me."

Jaime looked at her, and she could see that he was uncomfortable with her gratitude. "You shouldn't see me as a hero, Sansa. I won't allow anyone to harm you, but don't think that I'm a good man. I've done…I've done things I'm not proud of – things you wouldn't like. I'm not worthy of your admiration."

Sansa walked silently next to him, mulling over his words. She thought about how much misery she had felt – how alone she had felt – before Jaime returned to Kings Landing and decided she didn't much care what he did in the past. She didn't care what he did to other people. She only cared that he was kind to her. She wanted to say these things to him, but she sensed he wouldn't want to hear it – that it would unsettle him, so she merely nodded at his words and allowed him to escort her back to the tower.

...

_Next chapter: Lannister Family Dinner :)_


	6. Chapter 6

_Thanks for all of the reviews - I appreciate the kind words._

_..._

Chapter 6

Cersei had insisted upon a Lannister family dinner that night, the eve of Jaime and Sansa's wedding, claiming that she wanted to welcome Sansa to House Lannister. Tywin had thought it a good idea, as it also presented an opportunity for the family to spend time with Margaery Tyrell, the future queen, away from the watchful eyes of the rest of the Tyrells. For his part, Jaime was dreading this dinner, and he had no doubt that Sansa was as well. They had managed to avoid both Joffrey and Cersei since their betrothal had been announced, but it appeared their luck had run out.

Sansa spent most of the day hidden away in her bedchamber with the palace seamstress who was completing her wedding dress, while Jaime had been stuck with his father. Lord Tywin had insisted on briefing Jaime on what had occurred with the war during his captivity and discussing the current location of all the troops in Westeros. Jaime had always known that he was his father's favorite child, but now that he had agreed to leave the Kingsguard and take a wife, Tywin favored him even more. He was finally fulfilling his role as heir to Casterly Rock.

He'd also spoken to his father about how unmanageable and violent Joffrey was, and to his surprise, Lord Tywin had agreed, saying that Cersei was the problem. He had suggested that Jaime take Tommen with him to Casterly Rock. He said that Jaime could teach him to be a Lannister and that Sansa seemed more capable of mothering him. Jaime hoped his father had not mentioned that plan to Cersei. He could only imagine how she would explode – and probably direct that anger towards Sansa. He'd rather the girl not have to deal with his sister.

No one had ever brought out his protective instincts the way that Sansa Stark did. When Jaime had seen Ser Meryn humiliating Sansa by describing her nude body, he had been overcome with rage. If he still had his sword hand, he would have killed him right there. He could see that Sansa thought him heroic for defending her this morning, though he personally thought his efforts were inadequate. Meryn and Boros should be dead. It was one more reminder that he was no longer the man he had been.

Jaime hadn't expected his left arm and hand to be so weak. So useless. He had tried and tried – hoping that something would magically click and his left hand would be as good as his right. His pitiful attempts to be the man he used to be had left him feeling useless and ashamed. Sansa had comforted him. She had made him feel as if he had someone who would be there for him. As if he wasn't alone in coping with the loss of his hand. Jaime hadn't intended to kiss her, but his blood was up from his frustrating attempts at using his left hand. She had said such sweet words to him, and touched him so gently, that he couldn't resist kissing her.

Jaime knocked on Sansa's door, and smiled when Pia opened the door. He'd brought the servant girl with him from Harrenhal, and decided she could serve as one of Sansa's handmaidens. All the maids she had when he'd arrived reported to Cersei, and Jaime didn't appreciate being spied on.

"Lady Sansa is ready for you, m'lord," she said, opening the door wider so Sansa could exit her chambers, as Pia discreetly left them there alone.

"You look beautiful," he said, enjoying the sparkling in her eyes at his words. "Far more beautiful than necessary for dinner with my family." _Cersei will be irritated by her beauty, no doubt. _He noticed that she was wearing Tully blue. It made her eyes look even bluer than they were and contrasted well with her fiery hair.

"Thank you." She nervously took his arm, looking as if he were leading her to the chopping block.

"It won't be that bad," he said, though he was not entirely convinced of that fact. "I'll make sure Joffrey says and does nothing improper. Just kick me under the table if you wish to leave. I'll feign illness and insist we return to the tower," he whispered with a smile. Jaime expected Joffrey would not harass Sansa, as Margaery Tyrell would be there, and Joffrey was under orders from Lord Tywin to behave in the presence of his future queen.

It was a small party, with Lord Tywin and Joffrey seated at opposite ends of the dining table. No one but Cersei could have picked the seating arrangements, as Sansa was to be seated beside Joffrey and Jaime was seated further down the table, beside Cersei. Tyrion deliberately pulled out his own seat for Sansa, taking her place beside Joffrey.

Cersei waited for Jaime to pull out her chair for her and turned to him with a flirtatious smile. He couldn't deny how beautiful she looked. She'd always been so beautiful and so perfect. Jaime looked toward Sansa to see how she fared, and noticed she was speaking to Tommen, on her right. He was glad Tyrion had spared her a seat beside Joffrey. She'd do well speaking to Tommen about his kittens.

Cersei spoke to him in a low voice. "You wed your little wolf girl tomorrow."

"I do," Jaime said, careful to fight his instinct to grab his wine goblet with his non-existent right hand.

"Do you honestly expect her to replace me? In your bed," she whispered.

Jaime was vaguely aware of his father making some sort of speech about the future of House Lannister and Jaime and Sansa's future as Lord and Lady of Casterly Rock.

"Sansa is a beautiful girl. And she will share my bed," he replied in a low voice.

She smiled and reached over, resting her hand on his thigh beneath the table. "Just as I shared Robert's?" Jaime took a deep breath as she moved her hand closer to his cock. "Sansa won't have a clue how to bring you the pleasure I can. I know exactly how you like to be touched." She reached for her wine with her other hand, taking several large swallows. "It must be difficult to pleasure yourself with your off hand," she said quietly, rubbing him through his breeches. Jaime felt himself harden at her touch as she reached for the laces of his breeches.

He and Cersei had frequently pleasured one another beneath the dining table; and they had perfected betraying nothing to those around them. When Cersei slipped her hand into his breeches and grasped his cock, Jaime merely swallowed heavily. As she began stroking him, Jaime looked across the table and saw that Sansa was smiling at something Tyrion had said to her. She met his eyes and she smiled shyly and nodded to him that she was fine here with his family.

As he looked at his sweet wife-to-be, Jaime grasped Cersei's wrist in an iron grip and removed her hand from his cock. The rage in her eyes was unmistakable. Cersei didn't deal well with rejection; but she couldn't shriek at him as she clearly wanted to. Instead, she drank several goblets of wine and directed venomous glances at Sansa throughout dinner. Jaime and Tyrion spoke to their father; Sansa continued her conversation with Tommen; and Joffrey and Margaery discussed their upcoming wedding.

Jaime monitored Sansa, and was relieved to see that Joffrey was on good behavior in front of Margaery Tyrell. Sansa noticed him watching her and met his eyes, smiling again.

"Was your wedding gown completed today, little dove?" Cersei asked, in a syrupy voice, turning her attention to Sansa.

"It was, your grace," Sansa replied quietly.

"I shall come to you in the morning, to help you get ready. Someone must, since your mother is with your traitor brother." Jaime watched as Sansa looked down at her plate, saddened by the reminder that her mother would not be at her wedding. None of her family or friends would be there, either. "We can also talk about what will be expected of you…so you are prepared to begin your marriage." To an outsider, Cersei would have seemed kind and helpful but Jaime recognized the vicious gleam in her eye and knew her intent was to be cruel.

"It's kind of you sister, to act as handmaiden. One would think the Queen Regent had more to concern herself with," Tyrion said, taking a large drink of wine. Jaime shared a look with Tyrion. Jaime could just imagine what Cersei would say to "prepare" Sansa for marriage – and for his bed. He refilled his own wine. This was going to be a long night.

Cersei glared at Tyrion. "Will you be attending the wedding Tyrion? I was concerned that you would be reluctant to attend, because of your disfigurement. I hope you won't allow any embarrassment to keep you away."

"Not at all, sweet sister. I'm simply happy that _whomever_ tried to kill me failed." There was definite tension at the table as Cersei and Tyrion glared at one another. Cersei reached to fill her wine again and Jaime was amused to see his father move the carafe out of her reach with a pointed look.

It was Margaery Tyrell who broke the awkward silence. "Lady Sansa, after you are wed, once you have more free time, I should like it very much if you would visit me in the Maidenvault. Now that we are to be family I hope that we can be friends," she offered, the picture of sweetness.

"Thank you, Lady Margaery. I would be honored," Sansa said, her smile cautious, as she seemed unsure whether Margaery was trustworthy. Jaime didn't entirely trust the Tyrell's. They were far too ambitious to trust. But Cersei and his father only cared about the military might that they could provide.

"That is most generous of you, my lady, to befriend the daughter of a traitor," Joffrey said, gazing lovingly at Margaery. "Lady Sansa, tomorrow I will walk you down the aisle and give you away in marriage, as father of the realm, since your own father cannot. I very much look forward to it." There was something in Joffrey's voice that Jaime did not like. He saw Sansa look down at her plate again, no doubt thinking about her lost family members.

"Thank you, your grace. I don't deserve such an honor," she said quietly.

Jaime looked at her, trying to get her to meet his eyes, but she wouldn't look away from her plate. He saw that Joffrey was about to open his mouth again, but once he saw Jaime glaring at him, Joffrey closed his mouth and ate his dinner.

"Lady Sansa," Jaime said, "it is I who do not deserve such an honor as you becoming my wife." She looked up and met his eyes, a small smile playing at her lips. He knew that she would have to look at him if he addressed her directly. As he and Sansa looked at one another, he could feel Cersei raging beside him, while Lady Margaery sighed dreamily, no doubt thinking his words were quite romantic. Jaime understood why his father frequently claimed to be surrounded by fools.

...

Jaime, Tyrion and Sansa returned to the Tower of the Hand after dinner. "You survived your first family dinner, Sansa. Let us hope it will not often be repeated," Tyrion said dryly. "I'll see you both tomorrow. Good night," he said with a wave and a pointed look at Jaime.

Jaime knew what the look was for. Cersei's "preparing" Sansa for the marriage bed would likely consist of scaring the girl. Now Jaime would have to beat her to it and speak to Sansa himself about what would happen on their wedding night. It was not a conversation he was particularly looking forward to, since he was certain to offend her delicate sensibilities. He reached for Sansa's hand as she turned toward her bedchamber.

"I'd speak to you for a moment, my lady, if I may?"

Sansa looked down at their joined hands, before nodding. "Of course, Ser Jaime." He opened her door and she looked at him in confusion.

"I'd like to speak to you privately. In your chamber." He nearly laughed in her face at her scandalized expression. "Don't look so shocked, Sansa. I don't intend to ravage you. Not tonight, at least." She paled at his words and Jaime silently cursed himself for teasing her in such a way – he was only increasing her nerves, not soothing them. He didn't wait for her response, leading her into her bedchamber and dropping onto the small sofa in her room, and pulling her beside him. She looked at him warily.

"You're not afraid of me, are you?"

She shakes her head. "No. Of course not."

"I hope not. I don't mean to scare you with my attentions. Just…push your limits a little," he said with a smirk.

"Is that what you wanted to talk to me about? To ask if I'm scared of you?"

_May as well dive right in. _"Did your mother ever discuss with you what would be expected of you in the marriage bed?"

She seemed absolutely horrified at the new topic of conversation. "_That _is what you wish to speak to me about?" He nodded. "I don't think that would be proper," she said quietly, looking down at her hands.

"You'd rather discuss it with Cersei?" She paled, shaking her head. "I expect she will discuss it with you anyway. I want you make sure you know that you have no reason to be scared." He looked at her seriously. "You didn't answer my question. Do you know what to expect tomorrow night? What will happen when you join me in my bed?"

Jaime didn't think it possible for her to turn the particular shade of red that covered her face. "It appears proper Sansa Stark has had some very unladylike thoughts about me," he murmured with a smile. "I take it you have some idea?"

She nodded, her color slowly returning to normal. _The Seven certainly had a sense of humor to saddle this innocent virgin with me. I suppose I'll show her what she doesn't already know tomorrow night._ Jaime leaned over and kissed her cheek. "As much pain as my family had caused you," he whispered in her ear before kissing her neck softly, "tomorrow night, a Lannister will finally bring you pleasure. I promise. You have nothing to fear."

Sansa turned to him, and Jaime was certain he saw desire in her eyes. He waited, and he was rewarded when she softly kissed him. "Thank you for being so kind to me," she said, down at her hands again. "No one has for a long time. Before you returned, no one ever really spoke to me except to frighten me." She leaned against him, resting her head against his shoulder, and Jaime felt that protective urge overtake him again.

"You've felt very alone, haven't you, Sansa?"

She nodded against his shoulder. Jaime wasn't used to comforting sad females. Cersei rarely showed weakness and rarely wanted comfort. He wasn't sure how he got into this situation. When he had agreed to his father's plan, he had thought that it would simply be a matter of taking the girl to Casterly Rock and bedding her every now and then to produce heirs. Jaime didn't think he would want to see to her comfort as much as he did. And he certainly didn't think that she would be a comfort to him.

Jaime hesitantly wrapped his arm around her and felt her lean against him even more. He leaned over and kissed the top of her head. "You're not alone anymore." The words fell from his mouth before he could stop them.

"Neither are you," she said so quietly, he barely heard her.

Jaime felt his stomach clench at her sincere words to him. She has the potential to be such a loving little wife. _It's a pity I'm the man that I am._ "I'll say goodnight now, Sansa. The next time I see you will be at the altar." He kissed her hand before rising from the sofa and quickly left her bedchamber before any more ill-advised words spilled from his mouth.

...

_Next chapter: Cersei's advice for Sansa, and the Wedding_


	7. Chapter 7

_Thank you to everyone who has been reading this story. This chapter a bit long, since it includes the wedding and wedding night. There is some smut at the end so, if that bothers you, it shouldn't be too difficult to figure out where to stop reading._

_Enjoy!_

_..._

Chapter 7

Sansa woke up and looked around her bedchamber, though after today it would be her bedchamber no longer. Today was her wedding day. Ever since she was a very little girl, Sansa had dreamed of her wedding day. Her dreams did not include a wedding that would be attended by not a single family member. Her dreams certainly didn't include being given away by the evil king who beat her and tormented her; who ordered her father killed. And Sansa had never thought that she would marry Jaime Lannister. The Kingslayer.

It was still dark, so Sansa curled up against her pillow and thought about Jaime. She'd never tell him – he was already far too arrogant – but she thought him the most handsome man in the seven kingdoms, missing hand or no. Sansa was nervous about being bedded by him tonight, despite her attraction. She thought about what it felt like to kiss him yesterday. She was glad that he had done it because it made her a little less nervous about being his wife. He was gentle with her. She hoped he would also be gentle when she was in his arms tonight. He told her that he was going to bring her pleasure, and when he said it, she had felt a strange tingling low in her belly.

When the sun rose, she forced herself to leave the warmth of her bed so she would have some time alone before the handmaidens arrived to dress her for her wedding. Sansa stood before the large looking glass in her room and studied herself. She wondered if Jaime saw her as a girl or a woman; if he truly wanted her as his wife. She pulled off the thin sleeping gown she wore and turned around, looking at the angry slash marks across her back. There were a few on her bottom and the back of her thighs. Some of the marks had healed to thin white scars, others were still a dark pink and a few were fresh – from the night Ser Jaime returned. As she looked at her body, Sansa was overcome with shame. Joffrey had made her so ugly. Tears filled her eyes as she realized that Jaime would see these marks on her body tonight. She didn't want Jaime to think her ugly. Sansa put on her dressing gown and sat on the edge of the bed, and dried her tears. She couldn't appear sad today.

Before long, her own handmaiden, as well as several of the queen's, arrived to prepare her for her wedding. While Sansa was bathing, Cersei barged into her bedchamber and shooed away the maids, sitting beside the bath. Sansa decided that Cersei was either still drunk from dinner the night before, or she had started drinking very early, because the odor of alcohol assailed her senses when the queen regent got close to her. "Did your mother prepare you for the marriage bed, sweetling?"

"Yes, your grace," she said wearily, not wanting to have this conversation with the queen. She did not want Cersei's advice about bedding Jaime; especially given the rumors about their relationship. The idea that Jaime had been with the queen regent – that he was Joffrey's father - troubled Sansa, though she'd not had the courage to ask him if it was true. She wasn't sure she wanted to know the truth. It would only make it more difficult to go to Jaime's bed if she knew for certain that he was bedding the queen regent.

"I doubt your mother prepared you for Jaime. He is a warrior, or he was, before his hand was chopped off. Don't be surprised if he fucks you rather brutally tonight. I expect he hasn't had a woman in months." _If Jaime hasn't been with a woman in months…that means he's not been with the queen. I suppose that's reassuring._ "You find him handsome, don't you, little dove?" It came out as more of an accusation than a question.

Sansa nodded. "Ser Jaime is very handsome. And he's been very kind to me," she said quietly.

"Men are often very different in the bedchamber than they are out of it. The passion takes hold of them and they don't think about being gentle. You're best not to fight Jaime – let him do as he wishes to your body." Sansa began to feel sick as she listened to Cersei's words. "It is your duty to let him bed you. And you will do your duty, won't you little dove?" Cersei didn't wait for her answer. "Stand up."

Sansa did as she was told, rising from the bath water and stepping out. The handmaidens returned and Sansa tried to avoid the look in Cersei's eyes as she stood there naked while the handmaidens dried her off and powdered her body. The queen motioned for Sansa to come to her, which she did reluctantly. Cersei moved toward her, a bottle of perfume in her hands, and the queen applied perfume to her neck, her wrists and her nipples before studying her from head to toe. "I suppose you'll do well enough for him to breed with." She sat beside Sansa as her handmaiden Pia did her hair.

"Our mother died when we were very young, you know. We were both only four years old. Jaime has always longed to be mothered. He's never understood that love is a weakness. That it brings nothing but pain. He's always been far too sentimental." Cersei's eyes narrow at Sansa. "Don't expect him to love _you_, though. He'll fuck you, he'll give you children, but he won't love you." Cersei rose from her seat, standing behind Sansa. "Make no mistake about why he's marrying you. Once your traitor brother is dead, you will be heir to Winterfell. My father couldn't allow the North to fall into the wrong hands. Jaime is merely doing his duty to his family." With those final words, Cersei left Sansa's room in a swirl of red silk, leaving Sansa alone with the handmaidens.

Sansa watched in the mirror as her handmaiden, Pia, threw out the queen's handmaidens, insisting that she would prepare Lady Sansa for her wedding. Pia helped her into a silky shift, which was much fancier than what she wore everyday, before she returned to Sansa's hair, weaving in a handful of jeweled pins.

"Don't listen to her, m'lady. I don't know why she's trying to scare you, but she's not speaking true," Pia said quietly. "Ser Jaime is a good man."

Sansa met the girl's eyes in the mirror. "You know him?"

"I lived at Harrenhal for as long as I can remember. I was there when he was recovering from the loss of his hand. He's been very kind to me, taking me away from there. Though he would hate my telling you."

Sansa smiled to herself. _That is very like Jaime. He hates anyone telling him he's good or honorable._ "You heard what the queen said to me?"

"I did, m'lady. Forgive me for being forward but…you should not fear him bedding you tonight." Sansa turned and looked at her. "I have been bedded. Many times and…you should not fear it. All men are not brutal in the bedchamber. I'm certain that Ser Jaime will be gentle with you m'lady."

Sansa felt herself blush, though she appreciated the girl's words. "Thank you," she whispered.

When Pia finished dressing her, Sansa stood before the large looking glass in her chamber and nearly gasped. She looked like a princess – as she had always wished to look on her wedding day, all white satin and silver stitching. The pins Pia had worked through her hair sparkled in the light. Pia moved towards her to drape the white maiden's cloak, a silver direwolf stitched on the back, over her shoulders. Sansa wished that she could pretend that everything was as it should be – that this was the wedding day of her dreams – but she could not.

_I want my mother_.

...

Several Lannister guards escorted her to the Great Sept of Baelor. She supposed that Lord Tywin was worried she would try to escape. Or perhaps that her brother would come to save her. As she walked up the stairs of the sept, she stopped for a moment, looking at the spot where her father was killed. The moment that changed her life forever. She'd long ago stopped wondering where she would be right now if Joffrey had kept his promise and spared her father's life – there was no point in longing for something that would never happen. She knew that her father would not be happy at her marriage to Jaime Lannister, but she was doing what she needed to survive and Jaime was the only one who could help her. He was the only one who wanted to help her.

"My lady," a guard said, interrupting her thoughts and taking her arm to hurry her along. She nodded, continuing to climb the steps. She stood, waiting to walk down the aisle, and looked at Ser Jaime, waiting for her at the altar. He looked so handsome and perfect. She couldn't help thinking that a year ago, this would have been all that she ever wanted – to wear a beautiful gown and marry a handsome knight. Ser Jaime was what she had always dreamed of. Her only regret was that he was a Lannister.

Her thoughts were interrupted as Joffrey appeared with his typical evil smile and offered his arm. She reluctantly took it, hoping that they could walk down the aisle in silence, but she did not truly expect it to be so. He spoke quietly to her as he escorted her. "My Uncle Jaime is to lie with you tonight. Though I had thought to demand the right to have you first, as king." Sansa felt her heart stop when he said that. "When Uncle Jaime has had enough of you, I'll make him bring you to me. Then you'll finally get to know what it's like to have a king inside of you."

She tried to ignore Joffrey's foul words and not allow her face to betray what she was thinking. Sansa told herself that Jaime was telling her the truth when he said that he would not bring her to Joffrey's bed. She glanced around the sept. There was no one here to stop this wedding. No friendly faces. Robb had not come for her. The only man who could save her was Jaime.

...

Standing at the altar, watching Sansa walk towards him, Jaime couldn't help wondering what she was thinking. He didn't imagine she ever thought she'd marry a virtual stranger with not a single friend or family member in attendance. _Why is it always the innocents who suffer the most?_ He knew that the girl liked him – was attracted to him even. But he wasn't so much of a fool as to believe that she was excited to marry him. He knew she'd happily return to her family, were Robb Stark to arrive and demand her return.

Jaime saw Joffrey whispering to Sansa as he walked her down the aisle. He could only imagine what he was threatening her with. Jaime took her hand as soon as she was within reach, squeezing it reassuringly, since she looked absolutely terrified. Sansa met his eyes and reached for his right wrist and squeezed it in response, before taking the metal in her hand. _She is very sweet_, he thought_. I shouldn't be marrying such a sweet girl._

The ceremony itself went by in a blur. Jaime had been to countless weddings and he'd never once paid attention to the vows. He made a point of listening to them this time. He'd broken so many vows in his life – he thought perhaps he could keep these. Sansa deserved that much. Her voice was very quiet as she said her vows. He noticed that she wouldn't look anywhere except at him, or down at their joined hands. _She must hate everyone in this room. And with good reason_. She still seemed so afraid. When it came time to remove her maiden's cloak, and place the cloak of House Lannister on her shoulders, Sansa silently helped him with the clasps. When he leaned in to kiss her, Jaime gently rested his hand against her cheek and claimed her lips, kissing her softly before tangling his hand in her hair to hold her close while he whispered in her ear. "Don't be afraid."

She nodded, clutching his arm as they prepared to leave the sept. Jaime glanced at Cersei and saw the rage and jealousy in her eyes. _Now you know how I felt when you married Robert. _How typical for his sister to be jealous when she didn't even want him – not really. She just didn't want Sansa Stark to have him. She didn't want to lose someone that she could manipulate into doing her bidding. Jaime expected his clear tenderness toward his bride was what had set her off. He looked down at the scared girl on his arm. He couldn't worry about Cersei. There were plenty of men who could soothe her. His priority had to be the comfort of his new wife.

...

The wedding feast was a small affair, much to Jaime's relief. Sansa didn't say much, quietly sipping her wine and only eating a few bites of food. Despite his reassurances, he could see that she was very nervous and scared. He supposed their wedding made everything real and final. They were bound together forever now.

Jaime felt her eyes on him and turned his head, meeting her eyes. "Are you all right?" She nodded, trying to smile. "You can do better than that," he gently teased, taking her hand and kissing it. "Do you know how many women would gladly trade places with you?"

She smiled despite herself. "You're not very modest, Jaime."

"I've never seen the point in it. Do you suppose I could have a dance with my wife?" Jaime wasn't much for dancing, but he imagined a young girl like Sansa enjoyed it. And it would allow him to hold her and reassure her a bit.

She took his hand, a relaxed smile on her face, and allowed him to lead her to the dance floor. Jaime took her in his arms, and saw that she was happy on the dance floor. "I've been remiss in telling you, that you look magnificent today. And I imagine there are many men who would gladly trade places with me. Most men could only dream to have such a beautiful, sweet little wife." She smiled at his compliment.

"Thank you. For being nice to me. Seeing to my comfort."

Before he could respond, Garlan Tyrell tapped him on the shoulder and Jaime turned Sansa over to him, walking back to his seat. He watched as Sansa happily danced, and relaxed a bit. He didn't like the thought of her being plunged into misery the moment they married. Cersei wandered over and dropped into Sansa's empty seat.

"She seems happy enough," Cersei muttered, refilling her wine. "Though she always was rather simple-minded. I suppose some men do like that."

"You confuse being kind and good-natured with being stupid. And I feel certain she will not spread her legs for every man who passes the moment my back is turned. Unlike you," he said, looking at his sister pointedly.

He saw shock pass through her eyes briefly, but Cersei recovered well enough. She would never show weakness. Never show fear. "You've always been a sentimental fool," she whispered. "I do what I have to, for our future."

Jaime laughed bitterly. "Not for _our_ future. To get more power for yourself."

"I had the misfortune of being born a woman. And my most effective weapon is my body." She turned to him, resting her hand on his. "But I've only ever loved you. Felt complete with you."

He supposed he should give her credit for not denying it. But there was nothing she could say that would tempt him back into her bed. He didn't have the chance to tell her that because he saw Joffrey approaching Sansa and abruptly pulled his hand away from Cersei and went to the dance floor, taking Sansa in his arms again with a warning look at the boy king. "I hope you've had enough dancing…I believe the feast is near over." He noticed Sansa stiffen in fear, and heard Joffrey eagerly speaking to his guards of the bedding and stripping the bride naked.

"Shall we skip the bedding and retire to my chamber now," he whispered in her ear.

He saw the gratitude in her eyes as she nodded and allowed Jaime to escort her from the dining hall. He caught Tyrion's eye and saw him nod with approval – at least Jaime had done something right. He wasn't able to spare her marrying into house Lannister. Nor would he spare her maidenhood. But he wouldn't allow Joffrey to harm her ever again.

Once they reached his bedchamber, Jaime bolted the door and moved to pour them each a goblet of wine. He turned back to Sansa and saw that she was standing in the center of the room, her eyes roaming over every surface until she finally focused on his bed. Jaime felt as if he could almost reach out and touch her fear and nervousness. He handed her the wine and she started to sip it.

He sighed to himself. He had toyed with the idea of giving her some time before bedding her, but ultimately decided against it. Perhaps if he were a better man. The fact was, he wanted her. And when he thought about her little looks at him, and her response to his kisses the day before, Jaime knew that he wouldn't be able to sleep in the same bed as Sansa without taking her. He was never one to postpone the inevitable. He thought it best to get it over and done with.

Jaime took off his doublet and tunic, dropping them to the floor. He looked over at Sansa and saw her eyes moving over his bare chest, her interest clear. She met his eyes and blushed, seeing that he'd noticed her appraising stare. Jaime couldn't keep the smirk off his face. "Why do you blush, little wife? Now that we're married, you're well within your rights to examine my body. As closely as you like." Sansa didn't respond, but he saw a little smile playing at her lips as she turned to put down her wine goblet.

Jaime took a drink from his own goblet as he watched her. He knew she would want him to gently make love to her. It was the least he could do for her. Jaime put his goblet down and moved behind her, pulling the pins out of her hair until it fell to her shoulders. Then he began slowly unlacing her dress with his left hand. He felt her tense and stopped, resting his hand against her back. "Better just me seeing you naked than the whole court… than Joffrey, right?" He saw her nod and felt her force her body to relax.

Jaime continued unlacing her dress. It was a slow process, as he only had one working hand, but Jaime made the most of the slow pace, trailing his fingers over her skin as he unlaced her until her dress fell away. Sansa stepped out of it and Jaime tossed the dress aside, leaving her in only her shift with her back still to him. He was about to go ahead and take off her shift as well, but he could see her trembling. Jaime knew it was fear, not desire, that was making her tremble. "You have nothing to be scared of," he whispered, placing a kiss on her shoulder. He allowed his eyes to roam over her body and saw scars criss-crossing over her back and suspected they continued beyond what was visible with her shift on. "Did Joffrey do all of this to you?" he asked, running his finger over the scars.

"The Kingsguard," she said quietly. Jaime took a deep breath to control his anger. "Don't look at it," she said, turning to face him and concealing her back from his view. "It's ugly."

He saw that she was ashamed of her scarred body. "You can see that I have scars as well, Sansa," he began gently, moving closer to her.

He watched her eyes move over his chest. "Did you get all of these in battle?" she asked.

"Something like that," he said, not wanting to tell her about his experiences with the Bloody Mummers. He took one of her hands and placed it on his chest. "Go ahead."

She was hesitant to touch him, but didn't move her hand away, slowly moving it over his chest. He knew that she wasn't immune to him – when she'd first seen his bare chest, the desire in her gaze had not gone unnoticed. Jaime tried to keep from showing the amount of lust he felt as she softly touched his chest, and he allowed his eyes to roam over her semi-dressed body. Her touch was almost painfully gentle as she traced over the lines of his muscles. If she were to look at his crotch, there would be no hiding his arousal.

"Come sit with me by the fire." Jaime took her hand and walked over to a large armchair before the already roaring fire. He pulled her into his lap and smiled at her little squeak of surprise. She met his eyes nervously and Jaime gently ran his finger over her cheek and down her neck. As his eyes followed his finger, he saw a small scar on the side of her breast, only visible because of the low neckline on her shift. Jaime softly traced it with his finger. "What happened here?"

"Joffrey had a knife and I didn't stay still. I was afraid and…I'm sorry that my body is so scarred," she said, her eyes beginning to fill with tears.

"You have nothing to be sorry about," he said, wiping her tears. "Your scars don't make you any less beautiful. They show how strong you are…how brave." She looked as if she didn't believe him.

"You don't think my body's ugly?" she asked quietly.

"You could never be ugly," he said, his eyes roaming over her. "Are you repulsed by me?" She looked at him questioningly. "I have more than a few scars…I've lost a hand. Does that make me ugly to you?" Jaime asked the question as if he were simply making a point to her, but the truth was, it was difficult for him to ask. And he very much wished to hear her answer. Part of him feared that Cersei was right when she told him that Sansa would be repulsed by his stump. That she would reject him as well.

She immediately shook her head. "No, you are…" she trailed off, looking down at her lap. "I think you are very handsome." She spoke quietly, a blush on her face.

"And I think you are remarkably beautiful," Jaime said as he kissed her gently. She returned his kiss, threading both of her hands into his hair. Jaime moved his mouth from hers and lowered his head to kiss her breast, right over the scar. Jaime kissed her skin again, with more force this time and heard her breath catch. He smiled to himself as he pulled down her shift and kissed all over her breast as Sansa gasped in pleasure.

Jaime raised his mouth to hers, claiming her lips and easing his tongue into her mouth. Sansa shifted in his lap, moving closer to him as he kissed her and Jaime softly caressed her exposed breast. He was relieved that she wasn't resisting and seemed to be enjoying his kisses and touches. She evidently noticed his hardness pressing against her thigh, and she pulled away from him, glancing toward his lap.

"Let's go to the bed," he said with a smirk, his voice deep with arousal. He rose from the chair, placing Sansa on her feet.

Jaime took off the rest of his clothes and walked, naked, towards his bed. He glanced back at Sansa who was still standing in front of the fireplace, her shift pulled down to expose one of her breasts, and her lips swollen from his kisses. _She has no idea how alluring she looks right now. How much I want her._ She didn't notice his gaze because her eyes were moving over his body. Jaime would have wagered she'd never before seen a grown man naked, and felt his arousal increase even more as her curious eyes moved over his body. He saw her eyes focus on his cock and abruptly look away, a blush on her face.

He chuckled. "You needn't be embarrassed to look at my body. You'll not faint dead away at the sight of my cock." Jaime saw her scowl at his choice of words. "Still the proper lady…" He sat on the bed. "I believe I'd prefer you to be improper here in my bed. Are you going to join me?" Sansa slowly walked over and stopped in front of him. "You're not going to leave me naked all by myself, are you?" he asked with a smirk.

She reached for the hem of her shift and slowly pulled it over her head, dropping it on the floor. She shifted on her feet nervously and Jaime forced himself to stay where he was, fighting his desire to pounce on the naked girl in front of him. Her eyes fastened on his face as Jaime hungrily looked over her body. _She certainly has the body of a woman._ He reached out and took her hand, gently pulling her toward him. "You know that I want you? That I'm attracted to you?" He saw her shiver at his words and glance at his lap again before nodding.

Jaime slowly moved his hand up her body to cup one of her breasts before raising his eyes to hers. He watched her face as his thumb moved over her nipple before he slid his hand back down her body, gripping her ass with both his hands – flesh and metal - to guide her onto his lap. Instinctively, Sansa rested her hands on his shoulders to keep from falling. Jaime kissed her neck, and then continued to kiss down her body to her breasts. He felt her grip tighten on his shoulders as he sucked her nipple into his mouth. He moaned in the back of his throat as he suckled on her until he heard her sigh in pleasure.

Jaime laid her back on the bed, caging her beneath his body. He just looked at her for several moments, scanning over her icy white skin, her fiery hair, and her pink lips, cheeks and nipples. He met her eyes. "Have you ever thought about what it would be like…making love with your lord husband, Sansa?" She nodded shyly and Jaime leaned forward, gently pressing his lips against hers. "Have you thought about making love with me?"

"Yes," she whispered quietly. "Have … have you thought about me?"

Jaime smiled, kissing her again. "I've thought about having you in my bed quite a bit." He lowered his mouth to hers and she kissed him back. He deepened the kiss, causing her to wrap her arms around his neck. Jaime continued kissing her and felt himself become more and more aroused. He was surprised at how much he wanted this sixteen year old girl. He kissed down her body and gently parted her thighs with his hand and felt her stiffen. Jaime looked up and saw fear in her eyes.

Jaime moved back over her, kissing her mouth and whispering in her ear. "I meant what I said the other night. I'll bring you more pleasure that you ever thought you'd receive from a Lannister…or any man. I promise. I'll be gentle."

Jaime moved down her body, settling between her thighs and slid his good hand beneath her back, arching her breasts toward him. He began kissing and suckling her breasts until she was whimpering beneath him. Jaime felt her wetness against his belly and moved lower, kissing a path from her breasts and down over her stomach. He moved one of her legs over his shoulder and kissed her inner thigh. Jaime glanced up and saw her watching him. He kept his eyes locked on hers as he swept his tongue over her warm wetness and her eyes widened in shock.

"Close your eyes," he told her in a soft, seductive tone. "Don't think about what I'm doing to you. Just feel. It will feel good. I promise."

As he moved his mouth back to kiss her soft folds she surrendered a little bit. Jaime opened his mouth, licking her lightly, then with more force, eventually pushing his tongue inside of her. Her moans filled the room and Jaime felt his cock harden even more at the sounds of her obvious pleasure. He slid one finger, then another inside of her and groaned to himself at how she felt around his fingers. Her hands tangled in his hair as he continued tasting her and he felt her foot moving against his back. He could feel her tightening around his fingers, and knew that she was reaching her peak. Jaime sucked on that little button where all her pleasure gathered and heard her cry out before she began to softly moan his name in pleasure as her body spasmed around his fingers. He continued licking at her until finally Sansa melted into the bed, trying to catch her breath. _I bet your mother never told you about that_, Jaime thought as he kissed her thigh one more time.

As she was coming back to earth, her body still trembling from pleasure, Jaime decided she was as relaxed as she was going to get. Jaime crawled over her, his cock hard as a rock after listening to her respond to his touches and kisses. Jaime took himself in hand as he prepared to enter her. He pressed against her entrance and watched her face to gauge her reaction. Her eyes popped open and locked on his. "Stay relaxed, Sansa." He kissed her once more. "Tell me if I hurt you."

She nodded as he moved off her slightly, guiding his cock inside of her. Jaime slowly pulled one of her legs around him, curving it around his hip. He felt her eyes on him as he slowly entered her. "Just breathe. Don't fight it." She gasped as he broke through her maidenhead, though he barely heard her over his own groan of pleasure. Her nails were digging into his shoulder and was certain she was leaving marks.

Jaime felt her body tense from the pain and he covered her mouth with his own, gently kissing her. "You feel so good, Sansa. Give it a minute. The pain will pass." Sansa's eyes were fastened on his and he could see that she was looking to him for comfort and, he feared, love. Jaime buried his face in her neck so he didn't have to meet her eyes, the emotion in her gaze making him feel things he didn't want to feel. He pushed aside these uncomfortable thoughts and feelings, and concentrated on the pleasure her body was giving him.

Jaime began to slowly thrust his hips, the feel of her firm body and soft breasts beneath him increasing his pleasure. Her gasps of surprise and slight pain slowly changed to gasps of pleasure, in time with his own groans of satisfaction. _She feels incredible. I almost forgot how good this feels. _He dug his hand into her hip, pushing her so she saw how he wanted her to move her body. After a few more thrusts, she began to move with him and Jaime moaned in pleasure.

Jaime shifted his body so he was rubbing against her pleasure spot. After several thrusts, Sansa clutched him to her and he felt her body clenching around him as she peaked again, her back arching and Jaime continued, increasing his speed. She began panting his name over and over as the pleasure overtook her.

Jaime moved back onto his knees, grasping her hips as he thrust into her at an even faster pace until he exploded with a loud moan, emptying his seed inside of her. He rolled onto his back beside her, breathing heavily. Jaime glanced over at Sansa, on her back next to him, also trying to catch her breath, and he resisted laughing at the expression of astonishment on her face. _She certainly enjoyed that._

He leaned over and kissed her forehead. She looked at him with those huge blue eyes, and Jaime gave in to the urge to take her in his arms, holding her against his chest. He lay back, and Sansa cuddled against him, resting her head on his chest. Jaime looked at the bed sheets she had been lying on and saw a small stain of maiden's blood. He ran his hand over her back and told himself that he wouldn't make a habit of sleeping with Sansa in his arms. That he was doing it now because he'd just taken her maidenhood, and she seemed vulnerable and in need of comfort.

_I'll keep her at a distance after this. It's for her own good. _He could offer her companionship, comfort and evidently physical pleasure. But he couldn't offer her love. She would only get hurt.

Jaime closed his eyes and couldn't stop thinking about how good it had felt to be inside of her. He'd always thought that only Cersei could make him feel complete. _I was wrong about that. _Jaime didn't want to think about all of the other things he had been wrong about. As sleep claimed him, Jaime felt Sansa's arms wrap around his neck and shoulders as she buried her face against his neck. Without thinking, Jaime tightened his arm around her and stroked her hair, lulling them both to sleep.


	8. Chapter 8

_Thanks to everyone for continuing to read my story. Now it's time for Littlefinger to get into the mix…_

_..._

Chapter 8

Sansa awoke with a start, not recognizing the room she was in; nor the bed. She felt an arm tighten around her waist and, as she took in her own naked body drawn across Jaime's, she realized where she was and remembered the night before. Sansa rested her head against his chest and looked around the room as the morning light streamed in through the windows. This was the first time she had slept through the night in months. She finally felt safe, knowing that Joffrey would not dare harm her while she slept in Jaime's arms.

Sansa had always been told that it would be one of her duties, as a wife, to lie with her lord husband; that she was to please him and give him children. She'd had the impression it would be rather unpleasant and painful. No one had ever told her that bedding could bring her pleasure as well. _Except for Jaime. He told me it would feel good._

She had never felt anything like what she felt when Jaime had buried his face between her legs, kissing and licking her most private spot. No one ever told her that people did such things. She knew it was scandalous, but it had felt so good, leaving her shaking and unable to think. At first it had scared her, to lose control that way, but then, when she'd surrendered to it, Sansa had never wanted it to end. Jaime gave her the first moment of pleasure she'd felt since her father was killed and she desperately wanted to feel it again.

Sansa turned her head and watched Jaime sleep for a few moments. He looked peaceful – which was not a word she would have ever used to describe Jaime Lannister. _My husband._ It seemed strange to her that she was a married woman. Especially that _this man_ was the one holding her in his arms as her husband.

She raised her hand to his face, gently brushing a few blonde locks from his forehead. She looked at his handsome face for a few moments before running her fingers down the side of his face. Last night, when he had undressed, Sansa had been unable to stop herself from staring at his naked form. She'd never seen a man naked before and Ser Jaime's muscled, golden body was glorious. Now, while he slept beside her, she wasn't able to resist touching him. She ran her fingers over his warm chest, and down over the muscles of his stomach. _He's so beautiful. _Sansa had always liked pretty things. The sheet was draped across his hips and she considered whether she should continue touching him. She glanced back at his face again, confirming that he still slept.

Sansa wanted to explore his body, though she wondered if it was proper for her to do so. _He is my lord husband. He is mine and I am his. That's what we said yesterday in the sept. _She ran her hand over his stomach, brushing over the soft hairs that began at his bellybutton and disappeared beneath the sheet. Her fingers played with the hairs right above the edge of the sheet. Sansa slowly eased the sheet off of his hips, uncovering her own body in the process and hesitated at the sight of Jaime in his naked glory. She rested a hand on his hip and felt a pulsing between her thighs and realized what she was feeling was arousal.

"Don't stop now." She turned her head and met his glittering green eyes, watching her. "Good morning." She blushed, embarrassed he'd caught her admiring his body, but held his gaze. Jaime seemed to know what she was thinking. Perhaps he could see the desire in her eyes.

"Did my little wife not get enough of my body last night," he asked with a smirk. "I didn't think you'd be so insatiable." Her mouth dropped open and she was about to move away when he grabbed her, pinning her onto her back, caging her beneath his naked body. "You're going to have learn to take a bit of teasing, Sansa," he said jokingly, as lowered his mouth to hers, kissing her passionately. "I didn't hurt you last night did I," he asked seriously.

She shook her head. She wasn't used to being able to touch him whenever she wished and hesitantly smoothed a hand over his hair. "I'm not hurt. It was – You were perfect. Gentle and perfect." As she looked in his eyes, Sansa could almost believe that she was wrong to doubt the existence of a brave and shining knight who would save her. She ran her hand down to cup his cheek, the stubble on his face tickling her fingers.

An expression she could not read flashed across his face for a moment. Then it was gone and Jaime kissed her again. She wrapped her arms around his neck and felt Jaime slide his hand down the side of her body. "Wrap your legs around me," he whispered between kisses and Sansa did as he asked, her breath catching as she felt him hard against her. Jaime sat up on his heels, lifting her onto his lap. She tried not to feel self-conscious as he looked over her breasts in the morning sunlight."Did you enjoy being with me last night," he whispered against her neck, as he sucked on her pale skin.

"Yes," she answered quietly.

"Is it a pleasure you'd like repeated?"

She nodded and felt him lift her hips and lower her onto him, groaning as he filled her. She clutched him to her as Jaime dug his hands – flesh and metal – into her hips and moved her against him. _Gods this feels good_, Sansa thought_. Why did no one ever tell me how good this would feel?_

She rested her hands on his shoulders to give herself leverage as she tried to copy the pace Jaime set. More than anything, Sansa wanted to feel that rush of pleasure she'd felt last night. She wanted her mind to shut off so she could forget all the bad things that had happened to her. She found herself aggressively grinding her hips against him, moaning at the feel of Jaime inside her. He slid his hand down to her ass, squeezing her affectionately. "I never dreamed my proper little wife would like fucking so much."

She glared at his filthy mouth and dug her nails into his shoulders, which only made him chuckle as he watched her. She increased her pace and Jaime reached between their bodies, stroking her until she felt that rush of pleasure overtake her and Jaime continued moving her hips against his until he followed her off the edge of pleasure.

Jaime fell back onto the pillows, as Sansa sat astride him, throwing her head back and breathing heavily. He was still inside her and Sansa was finding it difficult to catch her breath. She leaned her head forward as her eyes refocused, and looked at Jaime. He was gasping for breath and staring at her body with eyes dark with desire. His good hand stroked up and down her hip. Sansa thought about the queen telling her about controlling a man with "that hole between her legs" and now realized what she had meant. Sansa saw that at this moment, Jaime would do whatever she asked of him.

She moved forward, kissing him and moved her mouth to his ear. "Thank you."

He chuckled, running his hand over her hip. "I think I should thank you, my lady. I could get used to waking up to this."

She shook her head, settling her body on top of his. "Thank you for taking away the pain…letting me forget all I've lost, all that has been done to me…even if only for a few moments."

Sansa felt his arms wrap around her as she buried her face in the crook of his neck. She never thought she would feel anything other than the fear that had surrounded her for months and months. After her own family abandoned her to Lannisters and Kings Landing, she never dreamed that anyone would make her feel protected and safe.

_Why wouldn't Robb come for me? Why would he leave me here with them?_ Jaime must have felt her tears on his skin because he rolled onto his side, enveloping her with his body and started stroking her hair and murmuring in her ear, gently kissing her temple, plainly trying to comfort her.

….

Jaime knocked on the door to his father's solar, going inside once his father bid him to enter. Lord Tywin's desk was covered with papers and maps. Jaime didn't know what his father was working on, but his father seemed certain that the Lannisters would soon have a great victory in the war.

"Jaime, what can I do for you? Shouldn't you be with your bride?"

"Do you happen have mother's jewels here with you?"

His father looked at him cautiously. "Why do you ask?"

"Sansa is the future Lady of the Rock. She should look as such. It wouldn't do for my wife to look as if she were not accepted as part of the family. It's hardly fitting for my wife to run around in her childhood jewelry. I'd like to give her something that belonged to my mother." Jaime had gotten the idea in his head this morning that he should do something to make Sansa happy. If Cersei was any indication, jewels made women happy.

He'd had every intention of keeping her at a distance. He'd tried to keep it as nothing but sex this morning, but when she'd told him that she was chasing physical pleasure to forget her pain, she had touched his heart and made him want to comfort her. And then when he'd felt her tears on his neck, he'd been lost. He understood her desire to indulge in the pleasure of fucking to forget the pain and hurt that weighed on her mind; he felt it as well. His little wife had certainly made him feel alive last night and again this morning. She made him feel like a man and not a useless cripple.

He knew it was trivial, but he thought a small gift would make her happy. Make her smile. As much pleasure as she had brought him, he didn't like seeing her cry. Jaime owned that he felt close to her - protective of her - because she was the only woman he'd made love to besides Cersei.

Tywin leaned back in his chair. "The marriage was consummated last night?"

Jaime had little doubt that his father had stationed guards outside the door to his chamber, and knew full-well that he had bedded Sansa last night, but he played along. "It was."

"And when can I expect to hear that she carries your child?"

Jaime hated the way his father made him feel like a 9-year-old being scolded for jumping off the cliffs at Casterly Rock. "I see no reason why Sansa will not be with child very soon."

"See to it that she is." Tywin directed Jaime to a small cabinet. "Take what you'd like. As your wedding gift to her." Jaime felt his father's eyes on his back as he looked for the piece of his mother's jewelry he wanted for Sansa. "Before you arrived in Kings Landing, Petyr Baelish expressed an interest in Sansa Stark being given to him as a reward for his efforts. For bringing the Tyrells into the fold."

Jaime wasn't terribly surprised. Rumor had it that Littlefinger had always loved Catelyn Stark and Sansa very much resembled her mother. "Why didn't you give her to him?"

His father gazed at him as if he were a simpleton. "I'd never give Winterfell to Petyr Baelish. Harrenhal will do well enough for him. I have heard from Varys that he is none too pleased that Sansa was given to you."

"Why do you tell me this?"

"I tell you this because Baelish is not to be trusted. You should be aware of his intentions toward your wife." His father rose from his seat and walked towards him. "Jaime, I've noticed that you seem rather fond of her."

"She's a sweet girl. It's not difficult to like her," he murmured as he found what he was looking for and closed the cabinet.

"Be sure you don't lose your head." He looked at his father questioningly. "I don't expect my heir to allow a young girl to lead him around by the cock. Enjoy having a pretty, willing young girl in your bed, by all means, but don't lose sight of what his marriage is: a political match. It won't be long before I see her brother dead and your children as heirs to both Casterly Rock and Winterfell."

Jaime nodded, understanding what his father was telling him. And he knew was right.

….

Jaime walked into the dining room and saw that Sansa and Tyrion were there breaking their fast. He stood in the doorway and watched her for a moment. He'd enjoyed her eagerness this morning. It had reassured him that she wanted to be in his bed. He had not thought that proper Lady Sansa would turn out to be such a passionate little thing in his bed.

"You have the happy glow of a new bride, my lady," he heard Tyrion say as he looked at Sansa over his cup. "I think you may prove to be my favorite sister. Though, that's not a very difficult feat," he said dryly.

Jaime walked to the table and sat beside Sansa, smiling in greeting at his brother who was seated across from him. Jaime placed the box he had just appropriated from his father beside her plate.

"What's that," she asked.

"Open it." She opened the box and her eyes lit up when she saw the bauble inside. Truth be told, it was more than a bauble. She ran her fingers over the golden medallion inlaid with emeralds and diamonds. "Would you like me to put it on you?"

She nodded and Jaime removed the necklace from the box and secured it around Sansa's neck. "Where did you get this?" she asked breathlessly, picking up the pendant to examine more closely.

"It was our mother's," Tyrion said, looking at Jaime with an unreadable expression.

"My father had it. It seemed appropriate for the future Lady of Casterly Rock to have some jewels. My father gave it to my mother on their wedding day. Do you like it?"

"It's beautiful. Thank you," she said, kissing him softly. She looked over at Tyrion, a blush on her cheeks as she remembered they weren't alone. "The rest of my belongings are being moved into your chamber. I should oversee that," she said, by way of explanation as she left the dining room, running her fingers over the pendant hanging from her neck and a happy smile on her face.

"My dear brother, whatever did Lady Sansa do last night to earn that gift," Tyrion asked with a raised eyebrow.

Jaime smiled at his brother. "She's a Lannister now. She's entitled to it."

"You do know that Cersei will be…displeased when she sees your bride wearing mother's jewelry. It seems that last night went well. I'm not asking for details – though I'd happily listen. Are you pleased with your bride?"

"She's a sweet girl. She's quite affectionate," Jaime trailed off.

"And I understand she's very fond of knights. Fortunate for her it was_ you_ that agreed to marry her."

"She's been hurt enough by her dreams of knights and princes. This isn't a romance. It's part of father's plan to win this war."

"Then why are you draping her in jewels?" Jaime didn't have an answer for him. He had resigned himself to a marriage which would be merely of convenience. That saving her from Joffrey would be a way to redeem himself for his past misdeeds. But Sansa turned out to be more than a symbol of his redemption. She was a real person. A real woman. And the man in Jaime couldn't ignore her.

….

As Sansa was walking to her bedchamber, she saw Petyr Baelish standing in the hallway. She looked at him curiously. "Lord Baelish, what brings you to the tower of the hand?"

"I wished to speak to you," he said smoothly.

"Why would you wish to speak to me?" She didn't trust Lord Baelish. He claimed to have been a childhood friend of her mother's, but there was something about him that made her uneasy. Perhaps it was the fact that he claimed loyalty to her mother, yet here he was serving the Lannisters. Sansa reminded herself that he was the one who brought the Tyrells over to the Lannister side in this war. If it weren't for him, Stannis Baratheon would have won the battle and she might be with her mother and her brother. She'd never forgive him for that.

He smiled a smile which she expected was meant to put her at ease. "I care for your mother very much. Which means I care for you."

"That's not necessary, Lord Baelish. I'm a married woman now. Jaime will take care of me."

"My dear," he began, moving closer to her, "I fear that your reliance on the Kingslayer is misplaced." He lowered his voice, speaking to her quietly. "Do you really know him? After only a few days in his company?"

"I know that he stopped Joffrey from harming me. That's more than you ever did for me. That's more than anyone here ever did for me."

"Lord Tywin has arranged this marriage, so that the Kingslayer could get a child on you. A child that will inherit your claim to Winterfell, should your brother die. I had hoped to get to you before your wedding. Out of loyalty to your mother, I will help you leave here -"

She interrupted him, not wishing to hear anymore. "You allowed my father to be taken prisoner and executed, despite your loyalty to my mother. And I've been here for months and months. Why all of a sudden would you help me?"

"There was nothing I could do for your father, Sansa, though I did try. The King and the Queen Regent were most determined. Would you still like to go home?" he whispered to her.

"Winterfell's gone. Destroyed by the Greyjoys."

He moved toward her, taking her arm, and walking her further down the hallway. "Would you like to go to your mother?"

"Of course." She dared not hope that she could actually be with her mother again. That she could put the nightmare of Kings Landing behind her forever. "But how? I'm married to Jaime now."

"Give me some time to make arrangements. When do you leave for Casterly Rock?

"After Joffrey's wedding."

"I'll speak to you before then. Has your marriage been consummated?"

She stiffened before slowly raising her eyes to his. There was something about the way he asked the question that made her uneasy. "Why would you ask that?"

"If you carry the Kingslayer's child, the Lannisters will hunt you forever. Lord Tywin will not allow Jaime's heir to fall into the hands of the Starks. They will never let his child go." She supposed that was a reasonable explanation, but it didn't entirely satisfy her.

"I must go," she said, turning towards her bedchamber.

"Take care, my dear," he said, kissing her hand and leaving her.

Sansa didn't know what to do. He had offered to take her to her mother. But there was something about his manner that she didn't trust entirely. Something in his eyes that made her uncomfortable. Especially, the way he'd asked about Jaime bedding her. Lord Baelish could have helped her so many times, and he never did. Why should she put her faith in him now?

And she was Jaime's wife. She made vows before the seven. Not that she had much choice in the matter. But he was the only one who had actually helped her. Jaime has protected her. _Can I really just walk away from him and put my trust in Littlefinger?_


	9. Chapter 9

_This chapter is a longer one – there was a lot of ground to cover and characters for Sansa to meet. Thanks to all of you for reading. Enjoy!_

Chapter 9

Sansa sat on the outdoor terrace in the Tower of the Hand, and waited for her tea to be brought in. She picked up the medallion hanging from the long gold chain around her neck and looked at it closely. It was beautiful. It was more extravagant than any jewel her mother had ever owned. Certainly more extravagant than anything Sansa had ever owned or even thought to own. She found that she liked it more because it had belonged to Jaime's mother. If Sansa were still the silly girl she was a year ago, the handsome husband and jewels that came along with being the Lady of Casterly Rock would have been everything she could have ever wanted. Now, it wasn't quite enough.

She missed her mother. There was something about Littlefinger that she didn't trust. But she didn't have any other options to get back to what was left of her family. Jaime would protect her, would be kind to her, but he wouldn't take her to her mother. And that was the thing she wanted most. She'd already made a mistake by refusing to leave with the Hound when he offered to take her home. She had been so certain Stannis Baratheon was going to win the battle that she had not been willing to risk trusting the Hound. Sansa was afraid to make another mistake.

Her thoughts were interrupted when Cersei flounced out onto the terrace and sat opposite her. "Good afternoon, little dove. I've been meaning to check on you today."

"I'm well, your grace," Sansa answered, wondering why she was there.

Cersei moved closer to Sansa, her eyes fastening on the necklace she wore. "Did Jaime give you that?"

Sansa nodded. "He gave it to me this morning. It's so beautiful. He said that it belonged to your mother."

"I did not know he planned to give you mother's jewels." She couldn't quite read the look in Cersei's eyes, but Sansa could she was not pleased. They sat in silence as the tea was brought in and poured for each of them.

Once they were alone again, Cersei turned to her. "How did things go with you and Jaime last night?" Her surprise must have shown on her face, because the queen regent continued. "You don't have a mother here to confide in. And you and I are sisters now," she said, taking a sip of her tea. "You needn't feel uncomfortable talking to me about this, even if Jaime is my brother." Cersei took her hand, her expression deceptively sweet. "Was he gentle with you last night, little dove, or was he…forceful?"

Sansa had no intention of describing to Cersei how Jaime had made love to her. Especially knowing the rumors about their relationship being more than brother and sister. She wanted to ask Jaime if the rumors were true, but she was too afraid. Cersei's perverse insistence on details made her think that the rumors were true. Why else would she ask? Sansa certainly wouldn't wish to hear such things about her own brothers. Perhaps the queen simply wanted to make her uncomfortable. If that was the case, she had succeeded.

"Come now, little dove, you needn't be embarrassed. I'm simply concerned. I spoke to a guard, and he told me that he heard your cries and…moans… through the door to Jaime's bedchamber. I wanted to make sure it was not from pain." Sansa could feel her face heat as the queen regent watched her, waiting for an answer.

"He did not hurt me," she mumbled quietly.

"I understand that your cries were heard again this morning. I do hope Jaime is not being too demanding of you in the bedchamber. That sometimes happens when soldiers return from war, not having had a woman for a while." Sansa couldn't meet Cersei's eyes. "Well?" she said impatiently, her eyes not moving from Sansa's face.

"He…He has been very patient. I believe he will be a good husband," she said, not sure what she was supposed to say.

"Did you enjoy being fucked by my brother?" Sansa's jaw dropped in shock, but she was saved from having to respond.

"What do you mean by having such an inappropriate conversation with your brother's wife?" Lord Tywin asked sternly. Sansa never thought she would be happy to see Tywin Lannister, but she was grateful he was saving her from this hell. Sansa could see Cersei almost shrink back in fear.

"Of course not father, I – I've never had a sister and I hoped to offer Sansa advice. To help her in her marriage. As a true sister would."

Lord Tywin gazed at Cersei with a hard expression. "I don't believe that is how ladies speak to one another, sisters or no. I take it you have no other business in this tower?"

"I was just leaving," Cersei said quietly. Sansa was amazed. She had never seen anyone make the queen regent cower in that manner.

As Cersei passed her father, Sansa saw him lean in to speak to her. "You will not do anything, no matter how innocent, to give credence to Stannis Baratheon's vicious lies, do you understand me?" _Lord Tywin appears to think the rumors are not true_, Sansa thought to herself. _Maybe it is a lie._

"Of course, father."

Once Cersei left, Lord Tywin sat opposite Sansa. "I trust my son's gift to you this morning met with your approval."

"Of course," she said, touching the necklace. "I've never seen anything like it."

"You know that necklace belonged to my wife, Joanna. She is very much missed, even all these years later. She was very gentle, very lady-like. Not unlike you," he said, fixing his gaze on Sansa. "Duty was very important to her. I trust duty is important to you, as well."

"Of course, my lord."

"My son gave up a lot for you." Sansa looked at him in confusion. "Joffrey had planned to keep you as his mistress, once it was decided he would marry Lady Margaery. But Jaime wouldn't hear of it. He felt you were worth far more than that, and he insisted on leaving the Kingsguard to marry you himself. His duty to the Kingsguard was very important to him – to his honor. He sacrificed those vows for you."

"I didn't know that," she said quietly. Jaime had never told her that he'd done that for her. To be Joffrey's queen would have been bad enough. If they had made her Joffrey's whore…she would have thrown herself from the highest tower in the keep. She didn't know how she could ever repay Jaime for saving her from that hell. She began to feel guilty that she was considering a secret escape with Lord Baelish.

"My son Jaime was always meant to be my heir. He will make an excellent Lord of the Rock. He has talents that few men have." Sansa could see the pride in Tywin Lannister's eyes when he spoke of Jaime. Lord Tywin terrified her, but his love for his son was plain to see. "It is your duty, to stand beside your husband. To support him, provide him with comfort. I'm sure your mother told you that lords and ladies find love _after_ they have married. Jaime is fond of you and, I believe, you admire him very much yourself."

She forced herself to hold Lord Tywin's gaze. "I…I like Jaime very much and I'm sure we will grow to love one another." She was telling Lord Tywin what he wanted to hear. But, Jaime _was_ her husband and a part of her did want to love him and wanted him to love her in return.

"Sansa, do you understand your duty to my son? To House Lannister? I expect hear very soon that you are with child."

Sansa swallowed nervously. "That is my greatest wish, my lord."

"It is mine as well, my love. I assure you, Father, Sansa and I will work tirelessly to produce an heir," Jaime said from behind her. She didn't have to look upon his face to know that a sarcastic smirk was fixed there. Sansa fought not to blush at his reference to them "tirelessly" trying to conceive. Jaime sat beside her and leaned over to kiss her cheek, but also whispered softly in her ear, so quietly that only she could hear, "good thing you like my cock as much as you do."

She narrowed her eyes at him for saying such things to her – especially in front of his father – but he only gave her a cheeky smile in response.

She was grateful that Lord Tywin didn't acknowledge Jaime's sarcasm. "I'll leave the two of you. We have guests arriving every day for Joffrey's wedding. I expect both of you to attend the many welcome feasts as representatives of the King and of House Lannister."

After Lord Tywin left, Sansa hit Jaime, as she had hit Arya many times for her impropriety. "You can't say such filthy things to me in front of your father."

He chuckled. "But I'm free to say them elsewhere?"

"You're impossible."

"I suppose I should be pleased that you've gotten over your cold courtesy around me," he said, rubbing his arm, as if she had injured him and Sansa reluctantly smiled.

"Your father is quite proud to have you as his son."

"I suppose he is, now that I've left the guard and am once again his heir. My father cares very much about the family name and about establishing a dynasty. He was very angry when I joined the Kingsguard. It has always been important to him that I be Lord of Casterly Rock after him. That I have many children, many heirs. He was pleased when I agreed to marry you."

His words made her think of what Lord Tywin told her – that Jaime had left the Kingsguard to spare her from being Joffrey's whore. "He told me that I was to be Joffrey's mistress…but you wouldn't allow it. And that you left the Kingsguard to spare me that disgrace." She looked up and met his eyes. "I can never repay you."

"He should not have told you that. I did nothing so heroic, Sansa," he said. "If I were truly worthy of your thanks, if I was a better man, I would have insisted they free you. I would not have taken you into my bed. But I'm…weak…selfish."

"Why do you wish me to see you as a villain? I can see, whenever I thank you, you don't like it. It's as if you'd prefer me to dislike you."

"I don't want you making me into something I'm not. You should know by now that life isn't one of your songs. That knights are nothing more than killers. I learned that lesson as well. When I joined the Kingsguard, I thought it an honor." He looked at her. "I suppose I believed in your songs as well. But I realized soon enough that there was little honor in serving a mad king. I'm not the brave knight of your dreams, Sansa. Your father would tell you I have shit for honor. Maybe he'd be right."

"I know life isn't a song. And I know that no one's perfect. That _you_ aren't perfect." _But, there is a brave knight in you, Jaime Lannister. Whether you believe it or not._

Sansa let the topic drop when a Tyrell guard walked onto the terrace, the rose of Highgarden plain to see on his armor. "From the Lady Margaery," he said, holding a sealed letter out to Sansa.

"Thank you," she said, taking the parchment from him and opening it as he returned to the Maidenvault. She scanned the letter, seeing that it was the promised invitation to visit with the soon-to-be queen. Sansa looked at Jaime uncertainly. "She invites me to tea with the ladies of Highgarden." Sansa supposed she would have to go, but she feared leaving the safety of Jaime and the Tower of the Hand to get there. She read the letter from Margaery more carefully and smiled suddenly. "Ser Loras is to escort me to the Maidenvault," she said quietly. He would protect her. Her face must have betrayed her admiration for the knight.

Jaime leaned toward her, taking her chin in his hand. "Don't forget who it is you're married to," he said with a smirk. She opened her mouth to protest but Jaime didn't give her the opportunity. "I see the sparkle in your eye. I suppose Ser Loras would appeal to a young girl, despite his ridiculous flowered armor."

"Are you jealous?"

"I have no reason to be jealous."

_Does he think Ser Loras would not want me? _"Ser Loras gave me a red rose at my father's tournament, when we arrived in Kings Landing. He said no victory was half as beautiful as me."

Jaime chuckled, taking her hand and kissing it. "That is true. You are exceptionally beautiful. But Ser Loras…you'd be gravely disappointed with him."

"Why?"

Sansa misliked the smile playing at his lips. "I do hate to scandalize you, little wife, but if you insist…Ser Loras shared his bed – and his body – with Renly Baratheon, until his untimely death." Before Sansa could even react, Jaime gently kissed below her ear. "You would not enjoy spending time in bed with Ser Loras as you do with me," he whispered. "He would never appreciate your substantial physical charms as I do…"

"But…Renly married Lady Margaery."

Jaime chuckled against her neck. "Why do you think she's still a maiden after months of marriage?" He kissed her again. "How long did you keep your maidenhood after you said your vows?" He continued kissing her and covered her breast with his hand.

"Not all men are as depraved as you." She grabbed his hand, removing it from her body, scanning the area with her eyes. "Anyone could walk in here and see you groping me." She felt a tingling in her belly as he pulled her to her feet, a mischievous smile on his face.

"Then I suppose we should go to our bedchamber," he whispered against her neck. "I did just promise my father that we would produce an heir," he said in a low voice as he led her to their chamber. Sansa protested and expressed her shock that he wanted to bed her in the middle of the day, but Jaime's kisses and touches soon made her forget all propriety.

...

A few days later, Ser Loras arrived to escort Sansa to the Maidenvault. She wanted to tell him how sorry she was about Lord Renly's death, but she wasn't certain that it would be appropriate to say so. As a result, they walked mostly in silence. Once they approached the Maidenvault, two Tyrell guards opened the doors and Margaery emerged and swept down the short flight of steps to greet them. "Lady Sansa," she called, "I'm so pleased you came."

"You do me great honor, my lady."

"Won't you call me Margaery? And might I call you Sansa? We are to be family soon."

"Of course."

Margaery dismissed Ser Loras with a sisterly kiss, and took Sansa by the hand. "Come, my grandmother awaits, and she is not the most patient of ladies." Sansa had heard of Margaery's grandmother. She was nicknamed the Queen of Thorns and Sansa feared she was ill-prepared for her sharp tongue and quick wit, despite the time she had spent with Jaime and Tyrion of late.

A fire was crackling in the hearth, and the room smelled of roses – no doubt brought with the queen-to-be from Highgarden. A dozen women were seated around the long table. Margaery performed the introductions to her mother and various Tyrell cousins, aunts and relations. Last of all, Margaery brought her before the wizened white-haired doll of a woman at the head of the table. "I am honored to present my grandmother, the Lady Olenna."

The old woman smelled of rosewater. There didn't appear to be anything the least bit thorny about her. "My, you are young to be the wife of the Kingslayer. It is so kind of you to sup with me and my foolish flock of hens."

"It is kind of you to have me, my lady."

"I would be remiss not to meet with the future Lady of the Rock. I knew your grandfather, Lord Rickard."

"I never met him. He died before I was born."

"I am aware of that, child. It's said your Tully grandfather is dying too. An old man, though not so old as me. Still, night falls for all of us in the end and far too soon for some. You would know more than most. We are sorry for your losses."

Sansa glanced at Margaery. "I was saddened when I heard of Lord Renly's death. He was very gallant." Though, as she said it, Sansa remembered her conversation with Jaime and wondered if she should even offer condolences to Margaery.

"You are kind to say so," answered Margaery.

Her grandmother snorted. "Gallant, yes, and charming and very clean. He knew how to dress and how to smile and how to bathe, and somehow he got the notion that made him fit to be king."

"Grandmother," Margaery said, "mind your words, or what will Sansa think of us?"

"She might think we have some wits about us. One of us, at any rate." The old woman turned back to Sansa. "It's treason, I warned them. Tut-tut says my son, don't you want your sweetling to be queen? You Starks were kings once, the Arryns and the Lannisters as well, but the Tyrells were no more than stewards until Aegon the Dragon came along and cooked the rightful King of the Reach. Margaery, summon Butterbumps. Let us see if we can't make Lady Sansa smile."

Butterbumps, their fool, arrived before the food, dressed in a jester's suit and performed all manner of ridiculous tricks and dances. Lady Olenna pushed herself forward to rest her elbows on the table. "Do you know my son, Sansa?"

"He is a great lord," Sansa answered politely.

"A great oaf," said the Queen of Thorns. "His father was an oaf as well. My husband, the late Lord Luthor. Oh, I loved him well enough, don't mistake me. A kind man, and not unskilled in the bedchamber, but an appalling oaf all the same. He managed to ride off a cliff whilst hawking. They say he was looking up at the sky and paying no mind to where his horse was taking him. And now my son does the same, only he's riding a lion. It's easy to mount a lion and not so easy to get off, I warned him." She looked at Sansa, as if she had just been reminded of something. "Speaking of mounting lions, how do you find marriage to the Kingslayer? From the looks of Ser Jaime, I'd expect he's quite skilled in the bedchamber."

Sansa face felt as if it were on fire. "I suppose that gives me my answer. Don't blush so, my dear, with your coloring, it makes you look like a pomegranate. I want you to tell me the truth about this Joffrey," said Lady Olenna abruptly.

Sansa's fingers tightened together. _The truth? Please don't ask._ "I….I…I.."

"Who would know better? You were betrothed to the boy for quite some time, until the Kingslayer scooped you up. We have heard some troubling tales. Is there any truth to them? Has this boy mistreated you?"

Sansa glanced about nervously. The ladies laughed at Butterbumps and ate, chatting to themselves. No one seemed to be paying she and Lady Olenna any mind, but even so, she was frightened. She knew that the walls of the Red Keep had ears, and she feared what would be done to her if she spoke the truth about Joffrey. She feared even Jaime would disapprove of her openly speaking of what he'd done to her.

Lady Olenna was growing impatient. "Has the Kingslayer cut out your tongue, child?"

"Joff…King Joffrey, he's…His Grace is very fair and handsome, and…and as brave as a lion."

"Yes, all the Lannisters are lions," the old woman snapped. "But how _kind_ is he? Has he a good heart, a gentle hand? Is he chivalrous as befits a king? Will he cherish Margaery and treat her tenderly, protect her honor as he would his own?"

"He will," Sansa lied. "He is very…very comely."

"You said that. Tell me the truth, no harm will come to you."

"My father always told the truth," Sansa spoke quietly, but even so, it was hard to get the words out.

"Lord Eddard, yes, he had that reputation but they named him traitor and took his head off all the same." The old woman's eyes bore into her, sharp and bright as the points of swords.

"Joffrey did that. He promised me he would be merciful, and cut my father's head off. He said _that_ was mercy, and took me up on the walls and made me look at it. His head. He wanted me to weep but…" She stopped abruptly.

"Go on." It was Margaery who urged. Joffrey's own queen-to-be.

"I can't." _What if she tells him? He'll kill me for certain then, and not even Jaime will be able to save me._ "I never meant… I have traitor's blood, please, don't make me say more."

"She's terrified, grandmother, just look at her."

The old woman called to Butterbumps. "Fool! Give us a song. A long one, I should think." Butterbumps bowed low, let loose an enormous belch, then straightened, threw out his belly and began to sing.

Lady Olenna squirmed forward. "Even when I was a girl younger than you, it was well known that in the Red Keep the very walls have ears. Well, they will be better for a song, and meanwhile we girls shall speak freely."

"But," Sansa said, "Varys…he _knows_, he always…"

"Sing louder!" the Queen of Thorns shouted at Butterbumps. The wrinkled old lady smiled. "At Highgarden, we have many spiders amongst the flowers." She patted Sansa on the back of the hand. "Now, child, the truth. What sort of man is this Joffrey, who calls himself Baratheon but looks so very Lannister?"

Sansa felt as though her heart were lodged in her throat. Margaery was listening as well. "A monster," she whispered. "Joffrey is a monster. He lied about the butcher's boy and made Father kill my wolf. When I displeased him, he had the Kingsguard beat me, until Jaime came and put a stop to it. He's evil and cruel, my lady, it is so. And the queen as well."

Lady Olenna and her granddaughter exchanged a look. "Ah," said the old woman, "that's a pity."

_Oh, gods_, thought Sansa, horrified. _Now Margaery won't marry him and Joffrey and Cersei will know I'm to blame._ "Please," she blurted, "don't stop the wedding…"

"Have no fear, my son is determined that Margaery shall be queen. Even so, we thank you for your truth, child." Lady Olenna looked at her, considering. "It's a pity the Kingslayer has already claimed you for his wife. You would have done well for my grandson, Willas."

...

Jaime gazed over the great hall and sighed in boredom. He wasn't sure that he would be able to stomach the weeks of feasts and spectacle that went along with Joffrey's wedding to Margaery Tyrell. This was precisely the sort of thing that he despised about being at court. Sansa didn't seem to take any more enjoyment than he in the wedding festivities, but she was putting on a good face. He expected she would enjoy it more were it anyone else's wedding, being held at any other castle. He made a point to stay near her, lest his cruel relations attempt to harass her.

She had seemed preoccupied the past few days – as if something was weighing on her mind. He supposed that the girl had plenty that could be weighing on her mind, given all that she'd been through in the past few months, and he had not pressed her.

Jaime found that he didn't mind being Sansa's husband. He liked having a woman who was only his – and who he could claim openly. And he certainly enjoyed bedding her – he'd indulged in her body every night – and most mornings. He had tried not to hold her in his arms afterward, not wanting to act as if they were something they weren't. Not wanting her to believe he was a good man; someone she should love. Somehow, she found her way to his side of the bed because he always woke up with her in his arms, cuddled up against him. After four nights of it, Jaime had given up trying to physically distance himself from Sansa. He told himself that it wasn't any more intimate to sleep with his little wife in his arms than it was to have sex with her.

Sansa rested her hand on his arm and leaned over toward him. "Who is that man who keeps looking at me?"

Jaime looked across the ballroom, following her line of sight, and locked eyes with Oberyn Martell. He didn't know why he was surprised that the Red Viper was admiring Sansa. The man was notorious for his sexual appetites. Women, men, it didn't much matter. Apparently Jaime's look was all the invitation the man needed to cross the room.

"Ser Jaime," he said, "I understand you've taken a wife. Quite a beauty," he said, his dark eyes freely roaming over Sansa. Jaime was inclined to say something, but he was bored and knew Oberyn wouldn't actually touch her in front of him without his permission. At least he didn't think so.

"Sansa, meet Prince Oberyn Martell of Dorne." He glanced up at the Red Viper. "My wife, Sansa Lannister." It still felt strange for Jaime to call her by that name. He sat back in his chair and watched in amusement as Sansa hesitantly allowed him to bring her hand to his lips. _She does look quite beautiful tonight. _Jaime had requested several new gowns from the palace seamstress for her to wear to all of the wedding festivities and he might have hinted that he would look favorably upon any gown that displayed her womanly figure. He was not disappointed in the results.

The Viper's mouth lingered a bit longer than necessary before Sansa pulled her hand back and he took a seat across the table from them both. He turned his cat-like eyes toward Jaime. "I never thought I would see the day you would take a wife. Though now that I see the woman who tempted you, I understand," he murmured, turning his eyes back to Sansa.

"I've never been to Dorne," she said tentatively, "what is it like?" _Always the proper lady_, Jaime thought as he sipped his wine. _Even when the man is fucking you with his eyes. _Jaime watched him weave seductive tales of Dorne and thought of his father's plan to wed Cersei to the Prince. Based on what Tyrion had told him about Cersei's sexual appetites, in addition to what Jaime had witnessed himself, he was beginning to think they might be well matched.

"My dear Sansa – may I call you Sansa?" he purred.

"Of course," she allowed politely. Jaime took her hand under the table, rubbing his thumb over her palm to soothe her obvious discomfort. She looked at him and smiled softly.

"How do you find being married to this rogue," he asked her with a smile, glancing at Jaime, the glimmer in his eye telling him that the Prince had some idea that Jaime was touching Sansa beneath the table, though he likely suspected something much more untoward than what was actually going on.

"I – I enjoy being married very much," she said, as the sipped from her wine.

"And does he fulfill his duties as your husband to your satisfaction?" he asked in a low voice.

"Oberyn, I assure you, she is well satisfied."

"As are you it appears." He saw the prince studying Sansa's neck and followed his gaze to a small red mark on her neck. Jaime smiled to himself. He'd never been permitted to mark Cersei, so he was taking full advantage of having Sansa in his bed, though she'd be furious if she knew one of his little love bites was visible to the world.

"You are a very attractive couple," he said, the hint of desire apparent in his eyes. "Should you ever wish for … company in your chamber, please let me know." He kissed Sansa's hand again before returning to his table.

Sansa looked at Jaime in question after the Prince left. "Did he just ask…" she trailed off as her face turned bright red as she realized what he had offered. "Both of us?" she whispered in question. Jaime fought to hold back laughter as she looked back at the Prince of Dorne curiously as her innocent mind tried to process what he had suggested to them.

...

_Coming up in the next one: Sansa starts to doubt Littlefinger's motives…_


	10. Chapter 10

_Thanks so much for all of the favorites and comments. I appreciate it. Here's the latest update!_

_..._

Chapter 10

_Jaime looked down and saw that he was once again wearing the white armor of the Kingsguard. He held his right hand up and flexed his fingers to feel the strength in them. It felt as good as sex. As good as swordplay. Four fingers and a thumb. He had dreamed that he was maimed, but it wasn't so. The relief made him dizzy. My hand, my good hand. Jaime felt like a man again – nothing could hurt him now that he was whole. _

_He was once again standing guard outside the king's chambers in the Red Keep. Jaime turned as he heard a woman scream in pain and terror from inside the King's chambers. He could hear the king – the Mad King – laughing. Jaime had heard the same thing so many times before. So many times he had been forced to listen as the Mad King raped his queen._

"_Jaime!" He realized that the woman screaming from within the King's bedchamber was Sansa. That she was screaming for him to help her. Jaime drew his sword and turned to enter the King's chamber. All of his brothers were there, lined up in front of the door. Ser Arthur Dayne, Ser Barriston Selmy, and all the rest. All the members of the Kingsguard, some long dead. _

_As Jaime moved toward the door, they blocked his entrance. "We have to save her," Jaime said, trying to reason with them. "We took an oath. To protect the innocent."_

_Ser Barriston gave him a hard look. "Not from him. Not from the king." _

_Sansa's screams grew louder and louder. Jaime raised his sword, running it through Ser Meryn, Ser Boros and three others, fighting his way into the chamber and saw Sansa on the bed beneath the naked king. Aerys Targaryan. He strode forward and grabbed Aerys by the neck pulling him off of Sansa. Jaime looked into the face of the mad king and drew back his sword. When he looked up again, it was no longer Aerys he held by the neck, but Joffrey._

"_Let me go, Uncle. I'm doing her an honor by allowing a traitor's daughter to lie with the king."_

"_Jaime, that's enough," Cersei said from the corner. She was dressed in a thin silk gown, her crown on her head, reclining in an armchair. "Let him go."_

_He looked at her in shock. "You are watching him brutalize her? How can you let him become a monster?"_

_Cersei rose from her chair and slowly walked toward him, shedding her gown along the way until she stood before him naked. "Let Joff have her…and you can have me."_

_Jaime looked at Sansa on the bed, naked and bleeding. Tears were running down her face and her eyes were begging him to help her. Jaime didn't hesitate to draw his sword across Joffrey's neck, watching as blood poured from him before he dropped his body on the ground. Cersei screamed, and cursed him, holding their dead son in her arms._

_Jaime took off his white cloak and wrapped Sansa up in it before lifting her into his arms. She wrapped her arms around his neck, crying against him, as he carried her from the king's bedchamber. His remaining brothers were there, swords drawn. Jaime put Sansa on her feet behind him and began to fought them off. Suddenly, his sword disappeared from his hand and he fell to the ground. He took Sansa in his arms as the knights advanced. He held her tight, but they dragged Sansa from his arms as she screamed for him. "No," Jaime screamed. "No, no no!" _

Heart pounding, Jaime jerked awake, and found himself in his bedchamber, the room dark, save the glow from the dying fire. He could taste bile in his mouth and he was naked and shivering with sweat, hot and cold at once. When he looked down at his sword hand, he saw the false metal, and couldn't feel his fingers as he had before waking. He felt sudden tears well up in his eyes. _I felt it. I felt the strength in my fingers, and the rough leather of the sword's grip. My hand…_

A small cold hand hesitantly touched his back. He turned and met Sansa's eyes. She gently rubbed slow circles on his back. "It was just a dream," she said in a small voice. He knew that he must be a sight.

"I'm sorry I woke you, Sansa," he said quietly, his eyes returning to the golden hand.

"That's all right," she whispered, moving her hand up his back and lightly threading her fingers through the hair at the back of his neck. "What were you dreaming of?" He imagined this was how she would comfort one of her scared siblings, and though it hurt his pride, the words tumbled from his mouth.

"I had my hand back," he said quietly, as he continued to stare at the golden hand. "I was…I could feel it. I could feel my fingers and I could feel…the sword in my hand. I thought it was a nightmare…that I hadn't really lost my sword hand."_ I was the greatest sword in the seven kingdoms. Now a sixteen-year-old girl comforts me after a nightmare. _"Go back to sleep, Sansa." Jaime felt another wave of shame at allowing her to comfort him.

He felt the bed shift as Sansa moved in front of him, and rested her hand on his cheek, raising his face to look at her. "Remember when you told me that my scars showed my bravery?" She reached for his golden hand, moving it between them. "Then this shows more bravery than anything. You've survived unimaginable pain, Jaime. You're strong and you're brave." She moved closer to him, all but crawling into his lap. She held him against her chest, her breasts bare and soft beneath his cheek, and stroked his hair. Jaime moved his arms around her waist, holding her small body tightly against his, the desire for comfort overcoming his pride. "I know that you won't let anyone hurt me. I couldn't feel any safer with you, were you to have two hands." He looked in her eyes and saw such caring that it was difficult for him to look at her. "Why were you screaming?" she asked gently as she stroked his hair.

Jaime shook his head. "Nothing you need hear, Sansa."

He couldn't tell her that hearing about what Joffrey had done to her, witnessing his abuse of her firsthand, and seeing her scars had stirred up his long buried memories of the mad king. Jaime had been younger than Sansa when he'd stood guard outside Aerys Targaryan's bedchamber, hearing him rape his screaming wife. He had wanted to help the queen. He'd argued with Ser Barriston, saying that they were supposed to protect the queen, and been told that they were not to protect her from the king. Jaime had killed before, but the violence he listened to outside the king's bedchamber still haunted him.

_Sansa thinks I'm brave. But I'm not. I'm a coward. I stood by while the Mad King raped the queen. I stood by while he killed Rickard and Brandon Stark. _As Jaime held his young wife in his arms, he couldn't help thinking about his terror when she'd been ripped from his arms in his dream. Each day, he found that his desire to protect her, his possessiveness of her, grew and grew. He had no doubt he would kill to protect the young girl with whom he had shared his bed and his body for nearly a month.

Sansa didn't press him for details. She merely held him tighter. Jaime closed his eyes and nuzzled in against her breasts. She rested her head on top of his and ran her fingers through his hair, and over his back. It was absurd, but the feel of her skin against his, of her fingers threading through his hair, made him feel safe. He couldn't remember the last time anyone held him like this and comforted him. Probably not since his mother was alive.

She smoothed her hand over his hair and kissed the top of his head. He could hear her heart beating as he rested his head against her chest and allowed her to hold him. "You're a good man, Jaime," she whispered quietly. He tilted his head up and was startled to see her bright blue eyes staring right at him. Before he could react, she lowered her head to his, kissing him softly. He returned her kiss, gently moving his mouth over hers. The longer he kissed her, the more he forgot his pain and began to feel desire. Jaime was never one for taking a woman slowly and gently, but he found that Sansa's soft touches made him feel so good, that he wanted it to last as long as possible.

Jaime slowly moved to lay her on her back beneath him, never breaking contact with her mouth. He felt Sansa's legs wrap around him and moaned against her mouth. He broke their kiss and began placing soft, open-mouthed kisses on her neck and shoulders. Jaime nuzzled against her neck, inhaling her scent and began to feel at peace. Jaime and Sansa continued softly kissing and touching each other until they were both aroused. He met her eyes when her hand found its way to his cock. She stroked him a few times before guiding him into her. He closed his eyes as her warmth surrounded him.

Her mouth was on his neck, softly kissing and sucking as he slowly rolled his hips, moving inside of her. Cersei had never given him this sort of comfort. Never let him make love to her like this. He felt Sansa's body tightening around him and shifted to reach between them, touching her the way they had learned she liked until she closed her eyes and moaned in pleasure. The feel of it pushed Jaime over the edge and he clutched her tightly as his body shook with his release.

Breathing heavily, he softly kissed her as his hand fluttered over her breasts, her nipples stiff under his thumbs. "Thank you," he said seriously, resting his forehead against hers. "No one would condemn you for refusing to offer me the slightest comfort, husband or no." He wanted to say more to her, but the words didn't come easy. He rolled onto his back, wrapping his arm around her as Sansa stretched out next to him, gently peppering his chest with kisses.

"I don't like seeing you in pain. Just as I know you don't like my pain," she said, her hand wandering over his chest and stomach, and down to his hip. "I never thought I would feel safe in the Red Keep, but I feel like nothing could ever harm me here in your arms. I care for you very much, Jaime. I lov-" she broke off abruptly, and he saw her color before resting her head on his chest again, looking away from him. _She was going to say she loves me. _He could feel her trembling beneath the hand that rested on her back. _She didn't mean to say all that. _

Jaime felt a strange flutter in his stomach. He never thought she would actually care for him. That she would love him. He didn't want her to. Jaime didn't know what to say to her. He didn't know if she expected him to say anything. The awkwardness between them was palpable. He supposed he shouldn't be surprised at her feelings. She was quite young and the sexual side of their relationship must make her feel close to him.

Sansa pulled out of his arms and started moving away from him to lie on her side of the bed. _Not that she ever stays there for long._ "We should get some sleep," she said quietly, her voice shaking and vulnerability shining in her eyes. He couldn't return her words, but he could show her some affection.

"Let me hold you?" She looked at him uncertainly. "I tend to sleep better with you in my arms." She looked as if she didn't quite believe him, but nodded slightly, and slowly moved back into his arms. Jaime held Sansa against him and kissed the top of her head. "You're a sweet little wife, Sansa," he said softly, holding her close. Sansa didn't say anything back, and he could feel her heart pounding against him through her chest. He was grateful that he didn't feel any tears falling on his chest. _I can't say what she wants me to say. She'll come to see that she didn't mean it. That she doesn't really feel that way. That she's just looking for someone to belong to. Someone to love._

_..._

Sansa walked toward the dining room to break her fast. Jaime had left their bedchamber early. She thought perhaps he was giving it another go on the practice field, after all of the emotion over his lost sword hand last night.

She thought about how Jaime had woken her with his screams. It had terrified her to see a man as brave and strong as Jaime so broken and afraid. She knew there was more to it than the loss of his hand, but he didn't seem to want to tell her about it. It didn't bother her, terribly. All she had wanted was to comfort him. As she held him against her, Sansa realized that she cared for Jaime. A great deal. Perhaps even loved him. She had thought she loved Joffrey, and those feelings were nothing compared to what she felt for Jaime. Her face heated as she thought of her idiotic words the night before when she was in bed with him. She didn't know why she said it. She always felt the most emotion for Jaime right after he made love to her and in her effort to comfort him she'd said far more than she intended.

Sansa didn't understand her feelings for Jaime. He was a Lannister – he was supposed to be her enemy, but she couldn't help caring for him. He didn't treat her as if they had been forced to marry. He was truly kind to her, and showed her tremendous affection. It troubled her that she could feel such emotion for him, yet still desperately want to leave Kings Landing and return to her mother. She didn't have anyone to talk to about her conflicting feelings and desires, and found it was all she could think of most days. As much as she had come to care for her husband, she knew that she belonged with her family, and she still hoped and prayed that Robb would come for her.

As she walked toward the dining room, she heard Jaime and Tyrion's voices. She smiled to herself. She found that she liked their relationship. Seeing Jaime's love for his brother had made her less intimidated by him in the beginning. She stopped dead in her tracks as she heard Jaime say her mother's name and waited, listening.

"Catelyn Stark seemed convinced you or I had sent some footpad to slit her son's throat. That one of us had given him a dagger. Did you?" Tyrion asked. Sansa held her breath. _Oh, gods. Please don't say it._

"Of course not."

Tyrion continued. "She described the dagger to me while I was in her….company and it _was_ mine. I lost it in a bet at Joffrey's Nameday tournament. To Robert. Jaime, do you happen to remember, when he was roaring drunk at Winterfell, and started bellowing how we kill horses and animals with broken legs, but we don't do the same for crippled children."

"You don't think he would have…?"

"No. But the children were there. Joffrey was there. True, the Stark boy was nothing to him…"

"But he was a child hungry for a pat on the head from his father. How has Joffrey turned out to be such a monster? He has the worst qualities of…both his parents. How did Lady Catelyn get it into her head that _you_ had hired the assassin? When she took you captive and set off this ugly mess?"

"We can thank Littlefinger for that." Sansa listened even more closely now. "He told her that I had won the dagger from him when I bet against you at Joffrey's Nameday tournament. It could not be that he was mistaken…why would he want the Starks to think that I was to blame?"

"I don't pretend to know what plots Littlefinger and Varys sow…Cersei tells me he took in Lord Stark as well…assisted in his capture. It was Littlefinger himself who held a knife to Lord Stark's throat in the throne room, taking him captive for the queen. He presents himself as a great friend to Catelyn Stark, but he has done her a great disservice…and cost her her husband."

Sansa's eyes began to fill with tears as she heard Jaime addressing Tyrion again, this time with concern in his voice. "Father told me that Littlefinger asked for Sansa – that she be given to him when Joffrey broke the engagement for Margaery Tyrell. As a gift of thanks from House Lannister. Father thought he wanted her claim to Winterfell, but now I wonder."

"Wonder what?"

"You recall, I spent a few months in Riverrun with the Tully girls, before I joined the Kingsguard? Littlefinger was quite infatuated with Lady Catelyn…perhaps he still is. Sansa reminds me a bit of her mother at that age – in looks, if not temperament. Lady Catelyn never returned his affections, that I saw. She was besotted with Brandon Stark. Littlefinger was even fool enough to challenge Brandon to a fight for her hand. He's lucky Brandon didn't kill him."

"So, you think he was looking to have the daughter, in place of the mother?" Sansa felt every hope she had of returning to her mother evaporate to nothing. _Lord Baelish was never really going to take me to my mother._ _I'll never see my mother again._

"Tell me, Jaime, have you come to appreciate your proper little wife?"

Though her mind was spinning over what they had said about Littlefinger, she wanted to hear what Jaime thought of her. "She has a gentle heart. She's much kinder than any of us. It makes Joffrey's treatment of her even more wretched. Father suggested that her manners were like mother's…he was right. She deserves someone better than an honorless one-handed knight."

Sansa wanted to tell Jaime that he wasn't honor-less. That he had been so honorable when it came to her. He could have been brutal with her. Or he could have simply been cold to her. He could have taken her to his bed, taken his marital rights and enjoyed her body without any care for her feelings. But he was gentle with her. Affectionate. He made sure not to hurt or scare her.

She waited as Jaime left through one of the other doors. "My dear goodsister, won't you join me?" Sansa cringed before entering the room fully. "How are you this morning?"

"I'm well. How are you, Tyrion?" He looked at her questioningly, and Sansa could tell that her courtesy wasn't going to get her out of this. "I didn't wish to interrupt the two of you."

"And perhaps you wished to hear what Jaime has to say about you when he thinks you aren't around?"

"Perhaps," she said quietly, pouring herself some tea. "You won't tell him, will you?"

Tyrion shook his head. "You like him, then?" She nodded, unable to meet his eyes. "Why are you so afraid to admit that much? You clearly heard that he likes you as well."

"I heard. Joffrey and Margaery marry in less than a week," Sansa said brightly, trying to change the topic. "Will you stay or will you come with us to Casterly Rock?"

He seemed to sense her wish to change the subject from her feelings for Jaime, and she was grateful that he indulged her. She couldn't much focus on her conversation with Tyrion, her mind too preoccupied with what they had said of Lord Baelish. She wanted to ask Tyrion his opinion of the man, but couldn't think of a way to do so without raising suspicion. _What more do I really need to hear? He lied to mother and father already._ She tried not to let her face betray how defeated she felt. She hoped Lord Baelish would simply stay away from her, though she knew that was unlikely. He had said he would speak to her again about the arrangements to take her to her mother. Now she wondered what he actually planned to do with her. Her skin crawled at the implications of what Jaime had said about his interest in her mother. _Cersei's right. I am stupid._

_At least I still have a way out of King's Landing and away from Joffrey and Cersei. With Jaime._

_..._

_Thanks for reading. In the next chapter, expect a raven from the Twins, though the message may differ a bit from the books…_


	11. Chapter 11

_Thanks again for the kind reviews! It's nice to know that you are enjoying the story. Read on…._

_..._

Chapter 11

Jaime received a summons from Lord Tywin late in the afternoon and wondered what his father was scheming about now. He entered his father's solar to find Cersei, Ser Kevan and Grand Maester Pycelle gathered about Lord Tywin and the king. Joffrey was almost bouncing in joy and Cersei was savoring a smug little smile, though his father looked grim as ever. _I wonder if he could smile, even if he wanted to. _"What's happened," Jaime asked.

His father offered him a roll of parchment. "_Roslin caught a fine fat trout_," the message read. "_Her brothers gave her a mighty wolf pelt for her wedding."_ Jaime turned it over to inspect the broken seal. "Does the Lord of the Crossing imagine he's being poetic? The trout would be Edmure Tully, the pelt…"

"He's dead!" Joffrey sounded so proud you might have thought he'd slew Robb Stark himself.

Jaime's mind immediately went to Sansa. _Hasn't the poor girl lost enough people she cares about?_ He knew the task would fall to him to tell his young wife that her brother was dead and he did not look forward to it. Just the thought of her tears made his stomach turn. "Kings are falling like leaves this autumn," Jaime said.

"Our lord father is winning this war for House Lannister," Cersei said with a smile.

"Nothing is won so long as we have enemies in the field," Lord Tywin warned. "Riverrun is still held by Brynden Tully, defended by the other houses of the Riverlands. The Freys will advance, joined by our forces, and, in time, in months, arrangements – pardons - will be made, and eventually Riverrun will yield to the crown.

"They should all be put to the sword," Joffrey declared suddenly. "The Mallisters and Blackwoods and Brackens…all of them. They're traitors. I want them killed, Grandfather. I won't have any pardons." Joffrey turned to Grand Maester Pycelle. "And I want Robb Stark's head, too. Write to Lord Frey and tell him. The king commands. I'm going to have it served to Sansa at my wedding feast." Jaime felt his phantom hand twitch at Joffrey's monstrous intent.

"Sire," Ser Kevan said, in a shocked voice, "the lady is now your aunt by marriage."

"A jest." Cersei smiled. "Joff did not mean it."

"Yes, I did," Joffrey insisted. "He was a traitor, and I want his stupid head. I'm going to make Sansa kiss it."

"_You will over my dead body_," Jaime said with a venomous voice. "Sansa is no longer yours to torment. You best understand that."

"I can do as I like," the boy king said, reddening. "I'm the king."

"Aerys Targaryan also felt the need to remind men that he was king. He was also passing fond of tormenting women for his amusement. And we all know how he met his end," Jaime said, wondering how this monster standing in front of him could possibly be his son.

"How dare you threaten him," said Cersei.

"Be quiet, Cersei," Lord Tywin said in annoyance before addressing Joffrey. "Any man who must say 'I am the King' is no true king at all. Aerys never understood that."

"He knew that a true king does not bend to anyone. Grandfather, even you feared Aerys Targaryan. You spent my father's entire war hiding beneath Casterly Rock." Joffrey drew himself up defiantly. "A _strong_ king acts boldly, he doesn't just talk."

"Thank you for your wisdom, Your Grace," Lord Tywin said, with a courtesy so cold it was like to freeze their ears off. "Ser Kevan, it appears the king is tired. Please escort him back to his bedchamber. Pycelle, perhaps some gentle potion to help His Grace sleep restfully?"

"Dreamwine, my lord?"

"I don't want any dreamwine," Joffrey insisted.

Lord Tywin would pay more heed to a mouse squeaking in the corner. "Dreamwine will serve. Cersei, Jaime, remain."

Ser Kevan took Joffrey firmly by the arm and marched him out the door, where two of the Kingsguard were waiting. Pycelle followed.

"Father, I am sorry," Cersei said, when the door was shut. "Joff has always been willful, I did warn you. And if Jaime had not provoked him out of his misguided desire to defend his insipid little wife - "

"There is a long league's worth of difference between willful and stupid," Lord Tywin said. "'A strong king acts boldly?' Who told him that?"

"It was not me. It must have been Robert who told Joff that a king must be bold," Cersei said weakly.

"And what were _you_ telling him, pray? I did not fight a war to seat Robert the Second on the Iron Throne."

"Robert would have beat Joff if I'd allowed it. He nearly knocked out one of Joff's teeth over some silly business with a cat, and I threatened to kill him in his sleep if he ever touched him again. Still, sometimes he would say things to Joff…"

"It appears they needed to be said." Lord Tywin turned to Jaime. "This is why Tommen will accompany you to the Rock as your ward. He needs to be taught how to be a Lannister. I won't have any more fools in this family."

"You will not take my son," Cersei screamed. "You'd have that stupid Sansa Stark raise him?" Jaime bristled at Cersei calling his wife stupid. She was far from it. Cersei didn't realize Sansa pretended to be stupid in order to survive. Cersei looked at Jaime as if he had betrayed her. "You knew about this, didn't you?"

"Sansa has a good heart. Despite all you've done to her – all Joffrey has done to her, she'll be kind to Tommen. Much kinder than you have been to her," Jaime said, his annoyance with his family growing by the second.

"I will not allow you to take Tommen and give him to _her_."

"That's enough." Lord Tywin waved two fingers at her, a brusque dismissal. "Go." She went, seething.

"Joffrey's not Robert the Second," Jaime said. "He's Aerys the Third."

"The boy is sixeen. There is time yet. He requires a sharp lesson."

Jaime couldn't stop thinking about Sansa and the horrifying blow her brother's death would be to her. She would never say it to him, but he knew that she still held out hope that her brother, the King in the North, would march on Kings Landing and free her. That she would be able to go home. Once he told her that her older brother was dead, that hope would die. "How long have you and Walder Frey been plotting this?"

"I mislike that word," Lord Tywin said stiffly.

"And I mislike being left in the dark. This is why you were so certain Robb Stark would be dead soon, and Sansa heir to Winterfell. That's what those letters were about."

"Don't look so disgusted. Now, you can honestly tell your wife that you had no part in it."

_I doubt that will spare me much blame in her eyes. I'm still a Lannister._"How was Robb Stark killed?"

"It was to be an arrow, at Edmure Tully's wedding feast. The boy was too wary in the field. He kept his men in good order, and surrounded himself with outriders and bodyguards."

"So Lord Walder slew him under his own roof, at his own table? What of Lady Catelyn?"

"Frey intended to take her captive. I imagine she's sharing a cell with her brother."

"So much for guest rights."

"The blood is on Walder Frey's hands, not mine."

"Walder Frey is a peevish old man who lives to fondle young girls and brood over all the slights he's suffered. I have no doubt he conceived this evil plot, but he would never have dared such a thing without a promise of protection. Your protection."

"I suppose you would have spared the Stark boy and told Lord Frey you had no need of his allegiance? That would have driven the old fool right back into Stark's arms and won us another year of war. Explain to me, Jaime, why it is more noble to kill ten thousand men in battle than a dozen at dinner?" When Jaime had no response, his father continued. "You yourself have killed more men than were killed at the Twins. What of the Mad King? Was that less abhorrent to you? Slicing open the throat of the man you swore to protect?"

Jaime had never told his father the reason why he killed Aerys Targaryan. He knew that Lord Tywin assumed he did it for his family – for House Lannister. Jaime never felt the need to correct him. No one knew the real reason. Not even Cersei.

"I know you disapprove of my actions, Jaime, but I've done what is necessary for House Lannister. Now, Lord Bolton will fight the Ironborn for a few years and see if he can bring Stark's other bannermen to heel. Come spring, all of them should be at the end of their strength and ready to bend the knee. The north will go to your second son by Sansa."

"And when do you imagine Sansa will be at her most fertile?" Jaime asked his father in tones that dripped acid. "Before or after I tell her how we murdered her brother and imprisoned her mother?" Jaime left his father's solar, not knowing how he was going to break the news to his young wife. He feared she would blame him. That she would hate him.

...

Sansa looked at her reflection in the mirror as Pia brushed her hair. It had been a different feast every night as the Lannisters displayed their wealth to the realm. Were it for any other reason – any other king – she might have found it exciting. Sansa always loved feasts. She loved the dressing up, the dancing and, she had to admit, she had come to enjoy attending with her handsome husband. But these celebrations for Joffrey's wedding left her cold and she always felt a grip of fear whenever Joffrey looked in her direction. She looked down at her gown, silver-grey with red swirls stitched through it, and thought it was just enough Lannister to be proper, but the grey of her dress was very Stark. She felt eyes on her and saw Jaime standing in the doorway, silently watching.

Ever since she nearly told Jaime that she loved him, Sansa had made a point of not babbling on to Jaime about how she felt about him. They still indulged in each other's body every night. To conceive an heir – that's what she told herself each time. He was trying to put a lion cub in her belly. Though, there was no denying how much pleasure it brought them both. Sansa still felt overwhelmed sometimes by the intensity of emotion she felt when Jaime was inside of her – so close to her and bringing her such pleasure.

"Pia, will you leave us," he said, finally speaking. Pia quietly left, closing the door behind her. "Sansa, I was thinking we could skip the feast, and spend the night alone." Sansa looked at him in surprise, since Lord Tywin had all but ordered them to attend every feast held for Joffrey and Margaery. He walked over and ran a hand over Sansa's hair. "You look lovely." He sounded sad, the way he said it.

"Why aren't we going to the feast?" _Something must have happened for us not to go to the feast tonight. Lord Tywin has insisted that we go. _Jaime knelt on the ground in front of her, resting his hand on her knee and fear began to take hold of her. His expression was far too serious. Jaime wasn't his normal joking, smirking self. Something terrible must have happened.

"I need to tell you something."

Sansa rose from her chair and away from him. "No. I don't want to hear." She knew she was being childish, but she didn't want to hear what he was going to say. She could see that it was horrible news. _I don't want to hear any more bad news._

She walked to the window and looked outside, away from Jaime. She felt him behind her. Felt his hand on her arm. "Sansa – "

"Don't." She could feel the tears welling in her eyes. "Please don't say it. Whatever it is, I don't want to know."

She felt his chest against her back and felt the deep breath he took. "You need to hear. I don't like being the one to tell you but I expect you'd rather hear this from me than…someone else." Her breath caught as she choked off a sob. "There was a raven from the Twins," he began. "There's no gentle way to say this – your brother, Robb, was killed."

Sansa felt her stomach drop. _Not Robb. __Am I to be the only one left? Father, Robb, Brandon, Rickon, Arya…Lady. _"My mother?" she asked shakily.

"Your mother is alive. She's being held as a prisoner at the Twins."

She nodded, keeping her back to Jaime. _Don't cry. Don't give in to the pain. _"Thank you for telling me. You- " her voice faltered for a moment as she fought the tears in her eyes and the sob in her throat. "There's no reason we can't go to the feast. It's our duty and your father demands it." _I won't cry anymore. I can't feel any more pain. _She gazed out the window, looking at the freedom that had eluded her for so long and that would now be forever outside her reach.

She'd abandoned any sliver of hope that Littlefinger would help her after she heard Jaime and Tyrion's conversation. But, she still thought maybe Robb would come for her. She felt Jaime's arm slide around her waist. "Truly, Jaime, I'm … I'm fine. My brother was a traitor. It was only a matter of time before he died."

"We're not leaving here tonight. And you don't have to say those lies to me. I know you don't believe your brother was a traitor." He rested his head against hers. "And you don't have to face this alone." Jaime turned her to face him. "It's only you and I. No one will know if you cry." She met his eyes and she could feel herself losing her battle with her grief. She could feel her eyes filling with tears. She tried to move away from him, but he didn't release her waist, instead pulling her towards him as tears began to flow down her cheeks.

She felt Jaime's hand stroking her hair as he held her against his chest. "I'm sorry, Sansa. You've lost too much for someone so young."

She tried to move away from him. "You shouldn't be the one to comfort me. It's not right." _Even if it means that no one will comfort me. _Even as she struggled to get away from him, she was secretly glad that he didn't let her go.

"I may be a Lannister, but I'm also your husband," he whispered against her. "If it makes you feel better, you didn't seek my comfort. I'm forcing it on you." Even as he said this, her arms tightened around his neck. She felt him kiss the top of her head. "I insist on holding you. I insist on comforting you."

"Who killed Robb?" she whispered against him, not wanting to hear the answer, but needing to know. She had to know if Jaime had anything to do with it.

He took a deep breath, his reluctance to answer apparent even to her. "The Freys killed him. I expect because he broke his promise to marry one of Walder Frey's daughters. But my father…my father knew, and he will reward him for it."

"Did you know it was going to happen?"

"No. I had no idea what he was planning." She felt some relief to know that Jaime wasn't planning to kill her brother as she gave him her body.

"What will happen to my mother?" She couldn't bear the thought of having to watch as another parent was killed.

"I expect she will be held as a hostage at the Twins. I don't believe they will harm her. She should be treated gently, as befitting a lady of her rank."

"I wasn't treated gently," she murmured, turning to look at him. "Joffrey will want to kill her. To hurt me."

"My father won't allow it. I won't allow it."

"It's my fault, you know. All of this."

Jaime lifted her chin, forcing her to look at him. He sighed and gently wiped the tears that were already in her eyes. "None of this is your fault. You are innocent in all of this."

She shook her head, resting it against Jaime's chest once more. "My father's dead because of me. He was planning to leave here with me and my sister. To return to Winterfell. And I told the Queen. I told her because I … because I was stupid and didn't want to leave Joffrey. I wanted to be queen someday. And now my whole family is dying. One by one." She settled against Jaime, reaching for his golden hand and pulling his right arm tighter around her.

"Do you know why…do you know why my brother didn't want to save me? He could have traded you for me…he just left me here with them. Every night I prayed that Robb and my mother would come for me. That they would free me. Why didn't they want to help me?"

Jaime rubbed his hand over her back, trying to soothe her. "I thought that being queen was everything I ever wanted but…I just wanted to be away from Joffrey. For him to stop hurting me. And Robb never came for me. Now he never will." Tears began running down her face and Jaime lifted her into his arms, carrying her to their bed. As Jaime settled onto the bed with her in his arms, Sansa snuggled against him. She tried to stop crying but she couldn't stop herself from sobbing into his chest. Jaime held her all night, doing what he could to comfort the scared, grieving girl who clung to him as if her very life depended on it.

...

_I couldn't completely eliminate the Red Wedding, but I wanted to change it a bit. I've read interviews with GRRM where he's said that he originally intended for Catelyn to survive the Red Wedding, and be imprisoned at the Twins. I thought it would be interesting to see how that would play out. Thanks for reading. Next chapter: Sansa (and Jaime) confront Littlefinger…_


	12. Chapter 12

_Thank you all so much for the reviews! I appreciate the feedback and I'm glad that you are enjoying the story and Jaime and Sansa's relationship. This is kind of a filler chapter, and it lays the foundation for the next one – Joffrey and Margaery's Wedding….enjoy!_

_..._

Chapter 12

After Sansa was told of her brother's death, Jaime had managed to convince his father that it would be unseemly to force her to attend the wedding festivities, but two days was the longest Lord Tywin was willing to allow her to avoid her duties to House Lannister. Sansa was surprised that she was allowed to hide away from everything for that long, since she wasn't given a moment alone to grieve when Bran and Rickard had been killed. Not to mention her father.

She was grateful not to have to paste a fake smile on her face at the nightly feasts, though she had not expected Jaime to stay back from the feast with her the second night. She told him to go, but he had insisted on staying with her, having a quiet dinner in their bedchamber and letting her cuddle against him in front of the fire. He'd told her all about Casterly Rock – which would be her new home once Joffrey and Margaery were married. She knew he was trying to distract her and she appreciated his efforts.

After her two days of solitude, she was expected to attend a pre-wedding tea for Margaery Tyrell. Sansa sat at the long table in the dining room of the Maidenvault, with more than three dozen ladies who had been invited to honor the future queen. The Tyrells served many different exotic teas, and sweet confections – some almost too pretty to eat – and huge roses covered the walls of the room. Margaery sat at the head of the table and smiled sweetly as she opened the small tokens the women present gifted her with – mainly hair nets, combs and frilly bedclothes, the latter of which caused Margaery to blush prettily. Sansa went out of her way to avoid speaking to the Queen Regent, and was grateful to be seated as far from her as possible.

As Sansa watched Cersei and the others fuss over Margaery, she thought about how Jaime had comforted her after telling her that Robb was dead. _He must care something for me. Jaime would not devote so much time to my comfort if he did not. He wouldn't hold me so tenderly if he didn't care._

Sansa's thoughts were interrupted when Margaery sat beside her, taking her hand. The future queen leaned close, whispering in Sansa's ear. "I was so sorry to hear about your brother." Sansa opened her mouth to say that her brother was a traitor, as was expected in the presence of the queen regent, but Margaery placed a finger to her lips. "Don't say anything."

Sansa saw Cersei watching them with narrowed eyes. Margaery shared a look with her grandmother, who yelled for a song from Butterbumps. Cersei seemed annoyed by the fool, but it was clear to Sansa that the queen regent was trying hard to make a good impression in front of the Tyrells and wouldn't dare make a scene. As Butterbumps screamed at the top of his lungs, Margaery spoke low in Sansa's ear.

"I know how heartbroken I would be if something were to happen to one of my brothers. Has anyone here offered you any comfort? Ser Jaime, perhaps? I noticed he was not at the feasts these past two nights. I expect he was with you?"

Sansa nodded, sipping her tea. "He has been a great comfort. And a very kind husband. He's not like…," Sansa trailed off, but felt certain Margaery would know she meant Joffrey and the queen.

"I'd like us to be friends, Sansa. I'm glad that you have someone to care for you – that your marriage to Ser Jaime is a happy one." She paused, glancing at Cersei. "This is very important, so listen carefully. At my wedding feast, you must stay beside Ser Jaime the entire time. Do not leave his side for even a moment. Keep hold of his arm, if you can, and do not stray for any reason."

Sansa looked at Margaery in question. "Why?"

"Just, please, trust me and do as I say." Margaery rose and Sansa puzzled over her words, wondering why it was so important that she stay at Jaime's side for the entire wedding feast. She began to feel fearful about the royal wedding. It seemed that Margaery believed Sansa would need some sort of protection. _As if I did not have enough reason to dread this wedding._

_..._

Two of Lord Tywin's guards escorted Sansa back from the Maidenvault, and as she walked past the library, Tyrion called out to her and beckoned for her to join him. She sent the guards on their way and walked into the library, sitting on the sofa next to Jaime's brother.

"I didn't have a chance to speak to you earlier, but I am very sorry for your loss, Sansa."

She nodded, looking down at her hands, not especially wanting to talk about the loss of all of her family members. "Thank you. I know that you do mean that."

"And how was the bridal tea? Was it has horrible as I imagine?"

Sansa smiled at his tone. "Lady Margaery is very nice. Cersei didn't even speak to me…and I didn't see Joffrey so…."

"So, even better than expected? Sansa, you cannot allow my horrible sister and even more horrible nephew to scare you. You need to remember who you are – you are the wife of the Kingslayer."

She looked at Tyrion in surprise. "You must know Jaime hates being called that."

"He does, but, what's important is, the name inspires fear. And if people want to whisper "Kingslayer" behind your husband's back, you can at least use it to your advantage. You should not walk around this castle in fear anymore. People should fear upsetting you, my dear."

"Why should anyone fear me?"

"I think you realize by now that Jaime cares for you very much."

She couldn't help smiling in pleasure at his words. "Do you think so?" Sansa had thought that Jaime cared for her, but she wanted to hear Tyrion's thoughts, since he did know Jaime so well.

Tyrion smiled warmly. "I know you've had a difficult time of it here, but it seems my father may have done you a favor, however unintentional, by marrying you to Jaime. You have a protector, now. Jaime would kill for you if you asked him to. And say what you will about Jaime, he is someone to fear when he is angered. And everyone knows that. Sansa, no one knows that he can't use his left hand well. He is still feared."

Sansa thought about how Ser Meryn and Ser Boros shrank back in fear when Jaime threatened them, and knew that Tyrion spoke the truth.

"Do you know how much I was mocked and teased growing up?" She shook her head. "Very little. Because of Jaime. And knowing that I had Jaime there to protect me, gave me the confidence to stand up for myself. Do you understand what I'm telling you?"

"So, what am I to do?"

"You will not allow anyone to threaten or intimidate you. And if they try, you will point out who your husband is and what the consequences will be if they continue to displease you."

"I could never say that."

"You can, and you will, Sansa. You're a Lannister. And Lannisters do not cower in fear from anyone. And Jaime Lannister's wife certainly has no reason to fear anyone."

Sansa thought about what Tyrion said to her. She _was_ tired of being afraid. And she knew that he was right about Jaime protecting her. She wanted to stand up for herself, but she was so afraid to. She had tried to stand up to Joffrey once, and been backhanded across the face for her trouble. _That was before Jaime. He won't allow anyone to harm you. He cares about you._

...

Jaime returned from the practice field, beaten and battered after sparring with Ser Ilyn Payne. He'd taken to sparring with the royal executioner because he knew there was no possibility that he would brag about how easily he bested the Kingslayer. As he winced in pain, Jaime couldn't help feeling that he deserved the pain after all that his family had done to Sansa – after all of the losses that she had suffered. He did what he could to comfort her, but it wasn't enough.

Jaime walked toward his bedchamber and heard low, angry voices coming from the hallway. He recognized one as Sansa's. He felt anger tighten in his stomach as he listened to Sansa argue with Lord Baelish, but he stayed hidden, listening to their conversation.

"- wedding approaches, and I am to leave immediately after for the Vale. I've made plans for you to accompany me. All you have to do is follow my instructions, and you'll be free of the Lannisters."

"And where would you take me? I cannot go to my mother anymore. She is a prisoner."

"I believe that I will be able to secure her release –"

"I don't believe you. I know that you helped the queen take my father hostage. That you lied to my mother."

"Are you allowing the Lannisters to manipulate you with their lies? Again? Your honor demands that you leave here with me. Do you think it would make your father proud if you were to stay here and be bedded by the Kingslayer? What about your mother? She's lost all of her other children. And you would stay here and give the Kingslayer children? Heirs that will allow the Lannisters to steal Winterfell." Watching Littlefinger try to manipulate sweet Sansa made him sick, but he waited, giving her the chance to defend herself. He wanted to hear if she fell for Littlefinger's words and agreed to leave with him or not.

"You don't know anything about Jaime. And you don't know anything about our marriage."

"Sansa, don't mistake sex for love. You're very young and new to the pleasure a man's body can bring you, but don't think the Kingslayer loves you, just because you share his bed," he said with a practiced sweetness designed to seduce.

"_The Kingslayer_, is my husband. I should warn you that he's quite protective of me. He doesn't like to see me upset. I worry what he would do to you if I told him you were trying to take me away from him." Jaime smiled. Tyrion had told him of his conversation with her about standing up for herself and it appeared Sansa had taken his brother's words to heart.

Littlefinger angrily grabbed her arm, pulling her towards him. "I try to help you, and you would threaten me?"

Jaime pulled his sword – for what it was worth – and moved towards them. "Unhand my wife. She's not leaving Kings Landing. Not with you." Littlefinger looked fearful. _Good_. Sansa looked…guilty. Jaime used his golden hand to tilt her chin up to him. "Has he hurt you?" She shook her head. "Go to our chamber and wait for me."

She looked at the sword in his hand uncertainly – likely thinking about how ineffective he was with a sword now - before picking up her skirts and quickly leaving them alone. Jaime waited until he saw her enter their chamber and close the door before turning towards Lord Baelish. Jaime yet again cursed the loss of his sword hand as he imagined the satisfaction of plunging a sword through Peter Baylish's throat. Jaime had a good idea what he had planned for his little wife.

"You must have a death wish to manhandle my wife in that manner."

"Does Sansa –"

"Lady Lannister," he corrected.

"Does she know the details of your relationship with your sister? Of your true relation to Joffrey? I imagine she does not, given her misguided affection for you."

Jaime knew Sansa would hate him if she knew. Not that it would change the fact of their marriage. She'd be by his side, whether she liked it or not. But Jaime would be lying if he said that he didn't care what she thought of him. He didn't want her to hate him. He much preferred her as she was now. He liked her sweet smiles and gentle touches.

"My father would be quite upset to hear that you planned to spirit my wife away from me. He might even consider it enough of an affront to withdraw all the gifts he's bestowed on you. No more Lord of Harrenhal. I have a good idea what your intentions are towards her, so I'll be clear: Sansa is mine. You cannot have her."

"All you want is her claim to Winterfell. Don't act as if you love her– "

"Don't act as if _you _love her. Using her as a replacement for her mother isn't loving her." Littlefinger's smile faltered a bit. "You don't even know her. All you see is a physical resemblance to Lady Catelyn. Do you actually think the girl would like to go to your bed, while you pretend she's her mother?"

"How dare you say such things? I know enough about your relationship with the queen to know that you're only fucking Sansa under orders from your father. To get a child on her that will inherit Winterfell."

"Careful. Lord Tywin would consider such statements to be treason." Jaime advanced on Lord Baelish, his face the picture of menace. "Do you think I don't know you're lies are responsible for Tyrion being taken captive? For starting the animosity between the Starks and Lannisters? My father plans to send you to the Vale, to…charm Lysa Arryn. You'll leave today. Without another word to my wife. Perhaps Lysa is one blue-eyed, red-haired Tully girl who will fall for your charms."

Littlefinger smiled tightly. "I leave for the Vale following the King's wedding."

"You leave today. And don't even think of traveling to the Twins – Walder Frey will be under orders to keep you far away from Catelyn Stark." Littlefinger glanced at the sword in Jaime's hand and his smile faded. "I'd suggest you leave before I reconsider allowing you to live."

Jaime re-sheathed his sword, and walked to his bedchamber, where Sansa waited, nervously sitting on the bed, almost shaking in fear. She watched him carefully as he crossed the room toward her. "I'm sorry," she said, as soon as he closed the door behind him. "I'm so sorry." She was near tears and terrified. _She's thinks I'm angry with her. _He thought about what anger from a Lannister has meant for her in the past. _She must think I'm going to hit her._

He sat beside her, taking her hand in his. "I'm not going to hurt you."

"I know that," she said, looking down at their joined hands. "I'm afraid that you'll think I don't appreciate all you've done for me. That I've…hurt you."

_How can she feel this way about me? A husband that's been forced on her._ "I've told Lord Baelish to leave Kings Landing today. I'm afraid he won't be taking you from here."

"I wasn't going to leave with him. Not now." Her eyes filled with tears. "I heard you and Tyrion talking about him. That he lied to my parents…helped Cersei take my father captive. He was never going to take me to my mother, was he?"

Jaime shook his head. "No. You'd have been free of me but, you may have found yourself sharing his bed instead."

"I am sorry, Jaime. I wanted to go home. I wanted to see my mother. I still do but…it doesn't mean that I don't appreciate how kind you've been to me. I don't wish to be free of you, I just…"

"You needn't apologize for wanting to go home. Do you really believe I don't know you'd walk away without a glance back if you could go home right now?" He knew that he spoke the truth, but he could also see that she was torn over that truth._ She does truly care for me. But she also wants to go home. To go back to the way her life was before King Robert brought her father to Kings Landing._

Her eyes were glassy with emotion. "Please don't think that I don't – " she broke off abruptly. She'd been a bit skittish with her words ever since she'd nearly told him that she loved him. He had noticed that Sansa had tried to resist her impulse to sleep in his arms. Though, her grief over her brother's death had sent her scrambling towards him every night, clinging to him as if he were the one thing in the world keeping her safe.

"Sansa, I'm not so much a fool to believe that you would rather be with me than with your family. But…you don't have anywhere to go. Or anyone to go to. Do you understand?" She nodded sadly. "I don't say that to hurt you. But, you need to accept that we're going to be together for some time."

"I know," she whispered. " If I can't go home, I'd choose to be with you." She blushed before looking up at him. "Are you angry?"

Jaime smiled, taking her hand and bringing it to his lips. "I'm not angry. I can't take you home, but I can get you away from Kings Landing. You just may like Casterly Rock." She nodded, not entirely convinced and Jaime wrapped his arm around her, holding her against him.

"Jaime?"

"Yes?"

"Do you think I'd ever be allowed to see my mother? Or, even, just write her?" He met her eyes and could see that she expected him to refuse her. _It is a small request._

"If you write a letter for her, I'll see that she gets it. Others will likely read it, but…I don't see the harm."

She brightened at his words, hugging him in thanks. _I'll try to make you happy, Sansa. I promise. It's the least you deserve from me._

...

Sansa softly kissed Jaime's chest as she lay on top of him, his arms wrapped around her. She had come to treasure this time in her husband's arms as they waited for their heart rates to calm and their breathing to return to normal. It was the time that she felt the strongest emotions for him and it was when he was the most affectionate with her.

In the week after her brother's death, they had gotten in the habit, after making love, of lying in bed and talking. And kissing and touching each other. She smiled as Jaime ran his hand over her back, tracing circles on her skin. She raised her head and kissed him, gently, though he returned her kiss with passion, teasing her tongue with his own.

"Would you like some wine?"

She nodded. "If you're having some." He kissed her once more before getting out of bed and crossing the room to pour them a goblet to share.

Sansa rolled onto her side and watched him. While she had been shy about their being naked together at first, she had come to enjoy gazing at his body. He'd taken to training on the practice field every day, though always in secret so no one knew how weak he was with a sword, and she had noticed his muscles develop and imagined his body was as it was before his capture and injury. His body looked so powerful to her. As Jaime stood with his back to her, she saw him rub where the skin of his arm met the leather straps that held the golden hand in place. He never removed it – at least not in her presence - though she knew it must be uncomfortable at times. As her eyes roamed over his back and thighs, he turned and caught her gaze.

"Are you enjoying the view, my lady?"

"Very much," she whispered. She loved when he was playful like this. It made it easy to forget the grief that was normally in the back of her mind.

"Yet you hide your body from my view," he said, eyeing the sheet that she had wrapped around herself. "I know you're not cold, the fire is blazing."

Feeling rather bold, Sansa rose from the bed and started walking towards him. Jaime simply watched her, a smirk on his face as his eyes roamed over her breasts. "You've gotten very confident here in our bedchamber. So perfectly improper."

She blushed, but still moved towards him, hesitantly taking his golden hand in hers and reaching for the straps that held it in place. "Take this off? Let me see just you." She hated the fear and shame that she saw in his eyes as he tried to pull away from her but she held fast to his wrist, her other hand sliding around his neck, forcing him to look at her. "Please don't be ashamed." She moved closer, pressing her chest against his as she stood on tiptoes to place a kiss on his neck. "I love looking at your body," she whispered, kissing him again. "Let me see all of you."

He didn't say anything, but she could see in his eyes that he was prepared to give in to her wishes. She led him to the bed, standing before him as he sat. Sansa took his wrist in her hand, and carefully unbuckled the straps that held the false hand in place. She could feel his eyes on her, searching for her initial reaction. _He thinks I'll be repulsed_. She could plainly see that. Sansa removed the metal hand and placed it on the bedside table as she rubbed her fingers over the handless wrist, trying to ease the discomfort from wearing the golden hand for so long.

She could see how vulnerable he was feeling and slipped onto his lap, hugging him against her before looking at his right wrist. The skin had healed at the point where his hand had been cut off and it was smooth beneath her fingers as she gently ran her fingers over it. She felt Jaime's head resting on her shoulder as she brought the stump to her mouth and gently, gently kissed it, hearing a sound from Jaime that might have been a sob.

_I love you, Jaime_.

Once Sansa accepted that no one was going to come and rescue her, she had given herself permission to love him. But she was still afraid to say it. She wanted to say the words to him, but she couldn't seem to bring herself to do it. It was difficult enough to admit to herself that she loved him, and the thought of him rejecting her was more than she could take.

She could see that he wanted to put the golden hand back on – to hide his stump from her. "Lay down with me?"

He did as she asked and but she could see that he wasn't yet comfortable with her seeing him without the golden hand. He was never this quiet, so she knew he was feeling very vulnerable. She stretched out alongside him and rested her head on his chest. "You shouldn't feel as if losing your hand has changed who you are."

"You don't understand," he said, tracing his hand down her back and over the curve of her hip.

"Then tell me."

He sighed, as she softly stroked his handless wrist. She found that she liked the feel of the smooth skin there, but she knew he didn't want her to look at it. She allowed him to pull his wrist from her grasp and wrap it around her waist. "All I've ever been good at is using a sword. From the moment my father placed a sword in my hand, I knew that it belonged there. I knew I was meant to be a great knight." He looked at her. "No one could beat me. And everyone feared me – obeyed me – because they knew I could make them. Now…"

Jaime lowered his head, softly kissing her neck as she threaded her fingers through his hair. "Perhaps I was just as naïve as you about what it meant to be a knight." Jaime lay back against the pillows. "Did you father ever tell you about Whent's great tournament at Harrenhal?" She shook her head.

"Harrenhal is where they gave me the white cloak. Whent's great tourney. He wanted to show us all his big castle and his fine sons. I wanted to show them too. I was only fifteen, but no one could have beaten me that day. Aerys never let me joust." He laughed.

"King Aerys made a great show of my investiture. When Ser Gerold Hightower raised me up and put the white cloak about my shoulders, a roar went up that I still remember, all these years later. But that very night, the king had turned sour, declaring that he had no need of seven Kingsguard at Harrenhal. I was commanded to return to Kings Landing to guard the queen. Even when the White Bull offered to take that duty himself, so I might compete, the king refused. 'He'll win no glory here,' the King had said. 'He's mine now, not Tywin's.'"

Jaime looked down and met Sansa's eyes. "That was the first time I understood. It was not my skill with sword and lance that won me my white cloak, nor any feats of valor I'd performed against the Kingswood Brotherhood. Aerys chose me to spite my father. To rob Lord Tywin of his heir."

"It doesn't seem like you enjoyed being in the Kingsguard."

"No," he said, shaking his head and moving to face her. "I'd have ripped the cloak off then and there, but it was too late." She could feel his stump moving against her back. Sansa had noticed that Jaime's golden hand would twitch when he was angry - as if he wanted to hurt someone wth it. "People say I have no honor because I broke my vow to protect the king but…they make you swear and swear and swear. Defend the king. Obey the king. Keep his secrets. Do his bidding. Your life for his. But obey your father. Love your sister. Protect the innocent. Defend the weak. Respect the gods. Obey the laws. No matter what you do, you're forsaking one vow for the other."

Sansa could see that this was something he'd thought on a lot. That it bothered him that he'd broken his vows. But she could also see that he had not felt he had a choice. "I think you very honorable," she said, gazing at him in admiration. "And very brave. I don't care what anyone else thinks."

He smiled at her as if he did not quite believe her words. "We should sleep," he whispered, holding her against him and closing his eyes.

She tilted her head up to kiss him before snuggling into his arms and closing her eyes, allowing sleep to take her. Joffrey's wedding was the next day. After it was over, they would travel to Casterly Rock and away from Kings Landing. _And away from Joffrey. Hopefully forever._


	13. Chapter 13

_Thank you again for all of the reviews, and for reading. It helps with the writing to know that the story is appreciated. And, with lucky Chapter 13, I give you: the wedding of King Joffrey Baratheon and Margaery Tyrell…_

_..._

Chapter 13

When Joffrey and Margaery's wedding day arrived, Sansa was filled with dread. She thought about Margaery's words to her – that she must stay beside Jaime during the entire wedding feast. And though Sansa could not figure out why, it had seemed important to the future-queen. So Sansa held tight to Jaime's hand as she sat beside him in the Great Sept watching the wedding ceremony.

Even Sansa had to concede that Joffrey and Margaery made a regal couple, as they stood side-by-side between the towering gilded statues of the Father and the Mother. The bride was lovely in ivory silk and Myrish lace, in a maiden's cloak made of a hundred golden roses sewn to green velvet. The seven vows were made, the seven blessings invoked, and the seven promises exchanged. Then it was time for the exchange of cloaks. Lord Tyrell removed his daughter's maiden's cloak, while Joffrey accepted the folded bride's cloak from Prince Tommen. He draped Margaery in the cloak and leaned close to fasten it at her throat. And in that moment, she passed from her father's protection to her husband's. _But who will protect poor Margaery Tyrell from Joffrey?_ _._

"With this kiss I pledge my love," Joffrey declared grandly. When Margaery echoed the words he pulled her close and kissed her long and deep. Light danced around the High Septon's crown as he solemnly declared Joffrey of the Houses Baratheon and Lannister and Margaery of House Tyrell to be one flesh, one heart, one soul. Sansa told herself that she should be happy that the wedding had finally arrived because it meant that she and Jaime would be leaving for Casterly Rock soon.

"I feared we'd never escape," Jaime said dryly. They were forced to congratulate the newly married couple. As Jaime kissed the bride's hand, Joffrey pulled Sansa toward him. "Once Queen Margaery is with child, I shall come to your bedchamber and show my uncle how it is done."

"Jaime's not much for sharing, your grace," she said quietly.

"What did you say?" Joffrey asked sharply.

Jaime wrapped his arm around Sansa's waist. "Congratulations, Joff. My dear, we should hurry back to prepare for the feast. We'll see you there, your grace." He kissed the top of her head and escorted her back to the Red Keep.

"That was the longest ceremony I can recall attending of late," Tyrion griped as he walked beside Sansa and Jaime.

"It was lovely. A very beautiful ceremony," Sansa said politely and felt Tyrion glaring at her. "It was…rather long," she conceded.

"Count your blessings that you aren't seated near Joffrey as I am at the wedding feast. Do me a favor brother? I plan to drink myself into a coma. Be sure I make it out of the throne room and back to the tower?"

Jaime laughed. "I'll be sure to have one of father's guards carry you back."

The three of them parted ways as they entered the Tower of the Hand, as everyone was expected to change into even more glamorous finery for the wedding feast. Sansa knew that the feast would last for many hours, as Cersei had arranged for seventy seven courses, seven singers and she was not sure what else. All so that she could impress the Tyrells with the wealth of House Lannister.

"Lady Sansa, you shall be the most beautiful woman in the hall tonight," Jaime said from behind her, after Pia had helped her change into a different, less demure gown than what she had worn to the Great Sept. Her handmaiden had left most of her hair long and loose, though she wore a sparkling hair band with purple jewels in it to match her gown. "Pity it's wasted on such an occasion," he murmured in her ear.

She met his eyes in the mirror. "You look very handsome." She turned and faced him. "Will you promise to stay beside me the whole time, tonight?"

"I promise." _He must think I'm being ridiculous, clinging to him throughout the wedding. _"And once this extravagance is over, we can leave here." He kissed her softly. "My father would like us to take Tommen with us to Casterly Rock, as my ward. How would you feel about mothering him a bit?"

She was surprised that Cersei would agree to such a thing. "He's sweet. He reminds me of my little brother, Bran." She pushed that thought away as she thought about how she'd never see Bran again. "Will Tommen bring his kittens as well?"

Jaime laughed. "I expect so. I think he'll do well with your influence," he said softly.

"Your sister will allow him to come with us?"

"She'll do as my father tells her to do. She's never paid much attention to Tommen anyway. It's always been Joffrey that's commanded her attention. From the moment he was born."

Sansa didn't know why, but something about the way Jaime was speaking about his sister's children made her think of the rumors about them being his. "Are you very close to Tommen?" She was hesitant to bring it up, but her curiosity got the better of her.

"No," he said, taking her hand. "I expect you know him better than I do." She wanted to ask more, but pushed her curiosity aside for later. They were going to be late for the feast, and she didn't wish to draw the ire of Cersei or Lord Tywin.

Jaime and Sansa walked through the Red Keep to the throne room where the sumptuous and extravagant wedding feast would be held. Sansa couldn't help being dazzled by the finery on display in the throne room. There was still something of the little girl who dreamed of coming to court and wearing a beautiful gown inside her, and that part of Sansa was delighted with everything before her. She'd never seen such jewels and silks, such elaborate hairstyles or such pageantry as she saw at the royal wedding. As members of the royal family, she and Jaime were seated on the dais, though, mercifully, not too near Joffrey.

Although nightfall was still an hour away, the throne room was already a blaze of light, with torches burning in every sconce. Once all of the guests had arrived, the King and his new Queen rode into the throne room on matching white chargers. Pages ran before them, scattering rose petals under their hooves. The Kingsguard escorted them onto the dais, to the seats of honor beneath the shadow of the Iron Throne, which was draped for the occasion in long silk streamers of Baratheon gold, Lannister crimson, and Tyrell green. When the king and queen had taken their seats, the High Septon rose to lead a prayer.

She and Jaime were seated near the queen regent, which would not have been Sansa's choice, though she supposed it was better than being seated near Joffrey. Jaime rested his arm on the back of her chair, and she leaned against him and said a silent prayer that no harm would come to them today.

"Let the cups be filled!" Joffrey proclaimed, once the prayer was over. His cupbearer poured a whole flagon of dark Arbor red into the golden wedding chalice that Lord Tyrell had given him that morning. It was the largest chalice Sansa had ever seen. The chalice was so large and heavy that the king had to use both hands to lift it and proclaim a toast. "To my wife the queen!"

"Margaery!" the hall shouted back at him. A thousand cups rang together, and the wedding feast was well and truly begun. Sansa took a sip of wine, thinking about what Margaery had said to her about staying close to Jaime, and wondering what was going to happen. It must have shown on her face, because Jaime leaned over to kiss her gently. She smiled and rested her hand on his leg beneath the table, not wanting to let go of him for even a moment. She felt eyes on her and turned to see the queen regent watching her with clear hostility. _It's her son's wedding day – shouldn't she be happy? She must wish that Jaime would treat me as Joffrey did. What did I ever do to make her hate me so?_

The first dish – a creamy soup of mushrooms and buttered snails served in gilded bowls – arrived. She and Jaime each had a few bites before pushing the bowl away. "One done, seventy-six to come," Jaime murmured quietly. He wasn't any more enthusiastic about attending this wedding than she was. The second course was served as the first of the seven singers began his performance. His first song told of the bravery of Lord Renly and Queen Margaery seemed rather tear-eyed at the end. Sansa's eyes wandered to Ser Loras and he seemed rather affected, though he hid it well.

Dishes and diversions succeeded one another at a staggering pace, buoyed along upon a flood of wine and ale. Sansa feared this feast would go on for hours upon hours and her anxiety only increased the more time passed, as she waited for whatever required her to stay near Jaime to happen. She'd have liked to hold his hand, or loop her arm through his, but she knew that was impossible to do while they ate. She settled for resting one hand on his thigh, not wanting to break all contact with him. A couple of times he had looked down at her hand on his leg and then back up at her, clearly wondering what she was about, but she knew he'd never complain about her touching him.

Yet another singer was ushered in and began a song that Sansa had always liked. Back when she thought life was a song. She sipped her wine and absently rubbed Jaime's leg under the table. She felt his hand close over hers, moving her hand more deliberately over his leg – and higher on his thigh. He was enjoying her touch far more than she had realized. _He must think my constant touching is a flirtation._ She turned to say something to him and found that his mouth was much closer to her than she had realized. "I'd say we're coming along in breaking you of your propriety," he whispered, moving her hand to the front of his breeches and moving it over him. She was startled to realize that he was half hard already. _I suppose this is one way to distract myself._

She tried to act as if nothing was amiss, but it was difficult. He released her hand and she felt his hand snaking its way over her leg and pulling up on her gown. She had a good idea what he was after and threaded her fingers through his, stopping him from doing something most improper to her under the table, and glared at him in warning. Jaime only responded with a mischievous smile.

"My dear," he said, raising his voice, "I believe I've forgotten something in our chambers. Will you accompany me?" Whenever he called her "my dear," it was for the benefit of those around them, but she was happy to leave, whatever the reason. Jaime took her hand and they slipped out of the throne room just as Joffrey was calling for his royal jousters.

After they left the throne room, Jaime took her hand and led her down a darkened hallway in the opposite direction of the Tower of the Hand. "You didn't really forget anything did you?"

"I didn't think you'd mind leaving for a while," he murmured, backing her into a large alcove and covering her mouth with his own. Sansa heard herself squeak in surprise as he lifted her into his arms, forcing her to wrap her legs around his waist. She kissed him back, her hands gripping his shoulders. The kiss was passionate to begin with, but Sansa could barely breathe as Jaime's tongue tangled with her own. Kissing and kissing and kissing.

She gasped, trying to catch her breath, as his mouth moved to her neck. She felt the wall hard against her back as Jaime pressed her against it and moved his hand to pull at the front of her gown, exposing her breasts.

"Jaime," she protested, her hands moving to cover herself.

"Everyone's at the wedding feast," he murmured against her skin as he kissed one breast. "There's no one here to see." Jaime sucked one of her nipples into his mouth and she heard herself moan and immediately clamped a hand over her mouth to muffle the sounds she was making. She heard him chuckle against her as he slid his hands – flesh and metal – to her thighs, and shoved her dress up before he pulled the ties on her smallclothes, removing them from her. Her eyes widened at his boldness but he only smirked and slid a finger inside of her. She tried to muffle her moans as he continued to suckle on her and moved his fingers in and out of her, but she could hear the sounds she was making and realized she was failing miserably in her efforts to be quiet.

She felt his finger exit her completely and knew that he was unlacing his breeches. "You're sure no one will see us," she whispered uncertainly. Jaime simply kissed her and moved his hands to her ass as he took her in a single thrust and Sansa gripped his shoulders and moaned. She rested her forehead against his, staring into his eyes as he thrust into her. _No one has ever looked at me as he does. I wonder if he could ever love me. _She wasn't certain how long they were joined because she lost herself in his eyes. It seemed like he did as well.

She could see in his eyes when he was about to peak and seeing him so overcome with pleasure pushed her over the edge as well and she buried her face against his neck, biting on his shoulder to muffle her cries of pleasure. She leaned her head back against the stone wall and felt Jaime rest his head against her chest. She began stroking his hair and felt his arm wrap around her waist, holding her against him as he softly kissed her chest.

"Jaime," she whispered, waiting for him to look up at her. When he met her eyes, she ran her hand over his hair. "I love you," she whispered, so quietly she wasn't certain he could hear her until she saw the reaction in his eyes.

He reached up and cupped her cheek before gently kissing her. "I don't deserve your love, Sansa," he whispered. She felt vulnerable and exposed as he spoke to her. "You have touched my heart and…you mean more to me than…" He took a deep breath. "I never believed I could love anyone …" He trailed off and she saw vulnerability in his eyes. She knew he was feeling uncomfortable with the emotion between them because he buried his face against her neck, breathing in her scent.

"Will you let me love you?" she asked, hating the cracking in her voice. He nodded, holding her against him and stroking her hair. She wanted to ask if he could ever love her, but she was afraid. Jaime held her for a while before lowering her to her feet. He chuckled as his eyes moved over her and he reached out to pull up her dress, covering her breasts, and threaded his fingers through her hair as she laced up his breeches.

"Do I look all right?" She smoothed her hand over her hair. "I mean, I don't look like –"

"Like your husband just debauched you in the hallway? No. Though your face does have a lovely glow." He kissed her softly. "That was shockingly improper of you, my lady," Jaime whispered as he took her arm to lead her back to the wedding feast. She glared at him, though she wasn't really angry. He kissed the top of her head. "You mean a lot to me, Sansa. Your words mean a lot." She leaned against him and clutched his arm, feeling safe and…happy, even.

She and Jaime walked into the throne room and she heard Joffrey screeching about his uncle not eating his pigeon pie. _Poor Tyrion, Joffrey hates him as much as me_. She heard Joffrey coughing and choking as he continued yelling. She and Jaime continued walking toward the dais.

"Help the poor boy!" the Queen of Thornes screeched, in a voice ten times her size. "Dolts! Will you all stand about gaping? Help your king!"

Ser Osmund Kettleblack ripped open the king's collar. A fearful high, thin sound emerged from Joffrey's throat. The sound of a man trying to suck a river through a reed. Then it stopped and that was more terrible still. Jaime rushed toward Joffrey and began pounding him on the back. "Turn him over," Mace Tyrell bellowed. "Turn him over and shake him by his heels!" The High Septon began to pray loudly. Grand Maester Pycelle shouted for someone to help him back to his chambers, to fetch his potions. Joffrey began to claw at his throat, his nails tearing bloody gouges in the flesh. Beneath the skin, the muscles stood out hard as stone.

Prince Tommen was screaming and crying, and Sansa took his hand, turning his face away from the choking king. The little prince clung to her as he cried. _He is going to die, _Sansa realized. She felt strangely calm, though pandemonium raged all about her. She kept her eyes on Jaime, and softly stroked Prince Tommen's hair. They were pounding Joff on the back again, but his face was only growing darker. Half the wedding guests were on their feet, some shoving at each other for a better view, others rushing for the doors in their haste to get away. Ser Meryn pried the king's mouth open to try to clear this throat. As he did, the dying king looked at Tyrion. Joffrey made a dry clacking noise, trying to speak. His eyes bulged white with terror and he lifted a hand…reaching for Tyrion, or pointing…Sansa couldn't see very well.

"Noooo," Cersei wailed, "Jaime help him, Father, someone help him, my son, my son…"

Sansa found herself thinking of her brother Robb. Jaime had refused to tell her any details of how he died, and no one would speak to her of it, but she knew Robb and many others had been slaughtered at a wedding. When she heard Cersei scream, she knew it was over. Cersei sat in a puddle of wine, cradling her son's body. Her gown was torn and stained, her face white as chalk. "The boy is gone, Cersei," Lord Tywin said. He put a gloved hand on his daughter's shoulder. "Unhand him now. Let him go." She did not seem to hear. It took both Jaime and two Kingsguard to pry loose her fingers so the body of King Joffrey Baratheon could slide limp and lifeless to the floor.

Margaery Tyrell began to sob, and Sansa heard her mother saying, "He choked, sweetling. He choked on the pie. It was naught to do with you. He choked. We all saw."

"My son did not choke." Cersei's voice was sharp and venomous. "My son was poisoned." She looked to the white knights standing helplessly around her. "Kingsguard, do your duty."

"My lady?" said Ser Loras Tyrell, uncertain.

"Arrest my brother," she commanded him, pointing at Tyrion. "He did this. The dwarf. He killed my son. Your king. Take him!"

She watched as Jaime grabbed his sister by the arm. "What are you doing?"

"Getting justice for Joff. You saw, with his last breath Joffrey pointed at his killer." She turned on Tyrion. "You threatened me with this. You said that you would take someone I loved. That when I was most happy you would see that it turned to ashes in my mouth, and now you've done it. You've killed my son." Sansa could see that Jaime wasn't sure what to do. They had not seen what had happened, but she knew Jaime would defend his brother.

Sansa looked at the newly-widowed Queen Margaery and met her eyes. And suddenly Sansa knew. _Margaery knew this was going to happen. Joffrey didn't choke. Margaery warned me to stay near Jaime so the queen couldn't blame me_. Lord Tywin ordered Ser Loras Tyrell to escort his sister, Queen Margaery, to the Maidenvault, and his own guards to escort Sansa and Tommen from the throne room. Jaime nodded for her to go.

Tommen continued to cry, clinging to her as they walked to his chambers. "Why did Joff die?" Tommen asked her miserably.

Sansa knelt down beside the little prince – little king now, she supposed – and wiped his tears. "I don't know, Tommen. You must be brave." He hugged her tightly before going into his bedchamber, desperate for comfort and when he pulled away, Sansa was struck by how much he looked like Jaime. She'd never seen any resemblance between her husband and Joffrey. But Joffrey always had Cersei's cruel expression on his face. Tommen…looked just like Jaime.

Just as Sansa entered her bedchamber, the bells began to ring, signaling Joffrey's death. They had rung for King Robert the same way. Joffrey was dead, he was dead, he was dead, dead, dead. She sat on the bed and felt tears in her eyes. _Why am I crying when I want to dance? _Were they tears of joy? _The gods are just, _thought Sansa. It was Robb she wept for. And for herself. _I'm finally free of him._

_..._

_We'll see what happens to Tyrion – and if Jaime is able to help him – in the next chapter…_


	14. Chapter 14

_Thank you to everyone who has read and reviewed this story - it definitely helps motivate me to work on upcoming chapters!_

_..._

Chapter 14

Jaime watched as his father's guards escorted Sansa from the Throne Room, Tommen clinging to her for comfort. He and Sansa had not left the wedding feast for even an hour and it had gone from joyous to deadly. He looked down at the dead king. _My blood. My firstborn. My son. _Jaime felt curiously calm. Men were supposed to go mad with grief when their children died, he knew. They were supposed to tear their hair out by the roots, to curse the gods and swear vengeance. _So, why do I feel so little? _As he looked at Joffrey, lying dead on the floor of the throne room, all he could think was that the boy would never hurt or scare Sansa again.

Jaime walked over to his father, as Cersei continued to insist that Tyrion was to blame for Joffrey's death and to demand that the Kingsguard take him into custody. "Father, you can't allow her to do this," Jaime said in a low voice. "She means to execute him. She'll listen to you."

Lord Tywin coldly surveyed the scene before him. "Guards, take him to one of the tower cells –"

"He should be taken to the black dungeons," Cersei hissed in vengeance.

Lord Tywin ignored her. "As I said. A tower cell. Now."

Jaime could not believe what he was witnessing. He had always known that his father had little use for Tyrion. He saw that Lord Tywin, like Cersei, blamed Tyrion for Lady Joanna's death. But Jaime could not fathom that he had so little care for Tyrion that he would see him imprisoned and executed. He surveyed the room and knew that he could never stop the Kingsguard from taking Tyrion into custody. Before he lost his hand, maybe, but not now.

Tyrion must have seen that Jaime was thinking about doing something rash, and shook his head. "I'll be fine, Jaime. We'll sort this out in the morning."

"You will not be fine. I will see you dead," Cersei spit out.

"That's enough," Tywin said. "Take him away." Jaime watched helplessly as Tyrion was escorted from the room by the Kingsguard and Cersei gloated. Lord Tywin turned to Jaime. "The king's justice will be done."

_The king's justice. _"You would execute your own son?"

"He stands accused of regicide and kinslaying. If he is innocent, he has nothing to fear. First we must consider the evidence for and against him. Then we will decide what is to be done."

_Evidence_. In this city of liars, Jaime knew what sort of evidence Cersei would turn up. What sort of evidence she would pay and threaten for.

"There is nothing to be done but to take his head," Cersei urged, rage swirling in her eyes.

Lord Tywin barely looked at her, urging Grand Maester Pycelle to come over to examine Joffrey's body. "Jaime, escort your sister to her chambers."

"No, Father. I must begin speaking to the witnesses," she protested.

Lord Tywin glanced back, looking past Cersei to Jaime. "Take your sister to her chambers."

Jaime took her arm to lead her to her chambers, choking down his anger at her actions toward Tyrion. He had to stay calm if he had any hope of reasoning with her and helping his brother. Cersei was eerily silent the entire walk to her chamber, not saying a word until they entered her bedchamber. Once the door closed behind them, Cersei's eyes filled with tears and she began to weep. She clung to him, crying for their dead son. Jaime held her in his arms, stroking her hair and comforting her. _She is my sister. And she's in pain. It's not wrong to comfort her. _His sister seldom wept except when she was with him. She could not stand for others to think her weak. Only to her twin did Cersei show her wounds.

Cersei tilted her head up, meeting his eyes. "You'll kill him for me, won't you? You'll avenge our son?"

Jaime moved away from her. "Even if he did this, and I don't believe he did, Tyrion is still my brother." He shoved his golden hand in her face, in case she had forgotten. "And I am in no fit state to kill anyone."

"You have another hand, don't you? I am not asking you to best the Mountain in battle. Tyrion is a dwarf, locked in a cell. The guards would stand aside for you."

The thought turned his stomach. Jaime had never before seen the depth of her hatred for Tyrion. He knew she took pleasure in taunting him – she had their entire lives. And it had always fallen to Jaime to protect Tyrion from her cruelty. "He knew Joffrey was mine. He would not have killed him."

"You didn't even see what happened. I did. He served Joffrey poisoned wine in front of a thousand guests. He cannot deny it."

"You don't know that it was poison. It looked as if the boy choked."

Cersei shook her head defiantly. "No. The gods would not be so cruel, it was poison. It was Tyrion. Joff was…joking with Tyrion but I could see the anger in that little beast's eyes."

"Joking? What was he doing? Was Joffrey "joking" as he was when he said he wanted to serve Sansa her brother's head at his wedding feast? That kind of joking?"

"You don't even care that he's dead, do you?" Cersei said suddenly. "He was your son."

"He was my _seed_. He never called me Father. You warned me a thousand times never to show any undue interest in them. And now…I don't feel about them as a father should. Robert was their father."

"I only did that to keep them safe! You as well. How would it have looked if my brother had played the father to the king's children?" She took his arm, pressing her body against him. "You saw, Jaime. You saw how horribly he died. Joff was so scared and in so much pain and I couldn't do anything to make it better. Tyrion did this, I know it. Your little wife probably helped him." Jaime knew his sister well enough – knew how she thought – that he knew exactly what she was driving at, bringing up Sansa. "She and Tyrion hated Joffrey, the both of them."

_With good reason. He was a little monster._ "Sansa was with me when it happened. She was with me every moment today. Sansa had nothing to do with his death. I will not allow you to use Joffrey's death as an excuse to lash out and kill everyone you don't care for."

Jaime thought about Sansa's words to him before everything went to hell. He had known that Sansa was in love with him, but to hear her say the words…Jaime had not known how to react. For one mad moment, he wanted to tell her that he loved her too. That she meant more to him than any woman ever had. More than Cersei even. He felt like a fool, allowing the words of this teenage girl to cause such emotions to churn within him. He had been afraid to respond to her at all, for fear of crazy, desperate declarations of love spilling from his lips.

"Why weren't you there? You left Joff's wedding feast. Why? Where were you and Sansa?"

He knew better than to tell her that he was making love to Sansa in the hallway when their son began to die. "It doesn't matter where we were, the point is, she had nothing to do with Joffrey's death."

Her eyes narrowed. "You were fucking her, weren't you? Get out. I _will_ see Tyrion dead. I _will_ get justice for our son – for Joffrey – even if you won't. Don't you dare try to stop me."

"Cersei, I don't believe Tyrion did this."

"Think what you will. Soon Ser Ilyn will have his head off. Perhaps you'd like it as a keepsake?" She held open the door, effectively ordering him out. Jaime had never hated her more than he did in that moment. The urge to wrap his hands around her neck and wring the life out of her overcame him and he forced himself to leave before he found himself in a cell of his own for kinslaying. _I won't allow her to kill Tyrion. No matter what I have to do._

...

Sansa was curled up on the bed she shared with Jaime, waiting for him to return to their bedchamber. She hoped that he would be able to do something for Tyrion. There had been such hatred in Cersei's eyes. Sansa couldn't stop thinking about Margaery's warning to her in the days before the wedding, and the look they'd exchanged as Joffrey lay dead on the floor. There was no doubt in Sansa's mind that Margaery - or perhaps her wily grandmother - had something to do with Joffrey's death. Not Tyrion. Sansa heard the door to the bedchamber open and turned, relief flooding her as Jaime entered the room and bolted the door behind him.

"Well, Cersei outdid herself. Seventy-seven courses and a regicide, never a wedding like it." He sat beside her on the bed, slowly removing his boots.

"What happened to Tyrion," she asked quietly. "You won't let her kill him, will you?"

"My father had him taken to a tower cell. It's a room, not a dungeon," he assured her, seeing her stricken expression. "There may have to be a trial. Regardless of the outcome, I won't allow my brother to be executed."

She nodded, reaching to unlace his doublet. "A few days before the wedding, Margaery…Jaime, she told me that I should be sure to stay by your side for the entire wedding feast. I think…I think she may have had something to do with Joffrey's death," she whispered quietly, as she removed his doublet and began unlacing his tunic.

Jaime tilted her chin up so she met his eyes and looked at her very seriously. "Do not repeat that to anyone, do you understand? The Tyrells will not allow you to accuse her."

"But Tyrion – "

"I'll see to Tyrion, don't worry. I'm not going to allow you to endanger yourself."

"Jaime," she began, very quietly. "I don't feel sad about him dying…I only feel relief."

"You shouldn't feel sad, Sansa. Joffrey was a monster. He deserved to die." She curled up in his arms. She could hear the sadness in his voice, though she didn't know if it was because Joffrey was gone or for how horribly he had turned out. Jaime lowered his head and kissed her. "If Joffrey had dared to touch you again, I would have killed him myself." He kissed her again, deeper, and pulled her onto his lap. "I suppose it's wrong for me to speak that way about my own kin," Jaime murmured. "Cersei asked me to kill Tyrion for her. To avenge Joffrey. _Her_ son." Sansa rested her head against his chest, knowing it hurt him to be caught between his brother and his sister. She couldn't stand Cersei, but she knew that Jaime loved his sister. "She was so angry to realize I don't mourn Joffrey as she does."

He was talking more to himself than to her, but something about his words made her want to ask about his relationship with Cersei. She thought back to Tommen's face when she'd left him at his room, and how much he looked like Jaime. Sansa could feel her insides churning as she tilted her head up to see his face and said the words. "Is it true that … was Joffrey your son?"

She could see on his face that the answer was yes. That he wished she had never asked him the question. Jaime slowly met her eyes. "Yes. Tommen and Myrcella as well," he whispered. "Joffrey was my blood, and I suppose I should feel something for him, but I don't. Perhaps I am the monster they claim. If the Father Above came down to offer me back my son or my hand, I know which I would choose."

Sansa felt like she couldn't breathe. _I told him I love him. I do love him. Joffrey's father._ She moved off of his lap, trying to process what he said. She had always known it was possible, from the moment they were betrothed, but as she spent time with him and let him into her heart, she dismissed it as lies. And now, to hear it was true – that Jaime and Cersei were lovers - cut her to her very core. _That monster who stripped me and beat me, who killed my father – that monster came from Jaime._ She saw Jaime reach for her and moved out of his grasp and away from him.

"Please don't." She pressed a hand to her chest, trying to slow her breathing. She knew it was hurting her so much because of how she felt about him. The thought of him touching Cersei as he touched her tore at her heart. "Did you imagine I was her? When you were…bedding me? Did you lie here wishing it was her naked in your arms instead of me?" She had started at a whisper, her voice growing stronger and stronger as the words tumbled out of her. Sansa could see the pain on his face but she couldn't stop herself.

He tried to reach for her again, but pulled his hand back when she flinched away from him. "I never imagined you were anyone but exactly who you are. I never wished you were someone else, Sansa." He walked around the bed towards her and knelt in front of her. "My whole life I've never…I've never been with any woman, but you and…and her." Sansa felt her stomach twist at his words and focused her attention on her hands, folded tightly in her lap.

"I've loved Cersei my whole life." Sansa hated herself for the tears that filled her eyes and the sob she choked back at his words. She saw his hand hover over hers as Jaime struggled against the impulse to touch her. "It was the thought of being with her again that helped me survive the agony of losing my hand. The torture and cruelty…I came here for her. And I went to her and she was…fucking Osmond Kettleblack. I've been faithful to her my whole life and she…"

Sansa could see that Cersei's betrayal hurt Jaime, but she had no intention of comforting him for the unfaithfulness of his sister. "I went to find Tyrion and on my way, I saw you. Stripped naked and being beaten on Joffrey's orders. I saw the shame in your eyes and the cruelty in his face and I had to protect you. I knew what you were feeling – alone, surrounded by cruel strangers."

Sansa struggled not to fall into his arms, weeping, as the tears rolled down her face at his words. "And when I took you back to your chamber, you touched me, so gently, despite all of your pain. And then, I saw how special you are. How kind you are. Do you know what Cersei did the first time she saw this," he said, angrily pulling off the golden hand and holding his stump in front of her. "The disgust on her face? I loved her my whole life and the second I was less than perfect…"

After a brief silence, Sansa slowly raised her head and met his eyes. She could see tears in his eyes as well, threatening to fall at any moment. "My father died because of you and the queen, didn't he? I never understood why he would say that Joffrey was not the rightful king. It's because he was _your_ son, not King Robert's. That's why, isn't it? He knew the truth and Cersei took him prisoner and Joffrey killed him."

Jaime tried to take her in his arms. She knew he wanted to comfort her, but she rose from the bed and moved away from him. "After he took my father's head, _your son_ made me go up to the gates with him. And he made me stare at it. My father's head. I tried to look away and he had the Kingsguard force me to look. It's because of _your son_ that I can barely remember what my father looked like. I can only remember a tarred head on a spike."

Part of her wanted to let Jaime comfort her, as he clearly desired to do, but Sansa couldn't allow him to do it. Not now. Not knowing that he was Joffrey's father. Not knowing that he was Cersei's lover. "I don't defend him, Sansa. He got what he deserved."

"Are you really going to help Tyrion? Or are you letting Cersei do as she wishes with him because she's your lover?"

Jaime slowly moved towards her and Sansa tried to stay away, but he wrapped an arm around her waist and forced her to look at him. "I haven't been with her since before I left King's Landing, all those months ago. I've broken a lot of vows in my life, but I won't break a single vow that I made to you; and I haven't. I swear to you, Sansa. I've been faithful to you and always will. Cersei and I are done."

At that moment, more than anything, she wanted to leave Kings Landing. To get far away from Cersei. "You promised we would leave here after the wedding." She looked at Jaime uncertainly, not knowing if she really wanted to be alone with him in Casterly Rock. His eyes had not left her face and he still held her against him. _I wonder if Tommen will still come with us? He'd have me play mother to his bastard and not even tell me._ Sansa placed her hand on his chest, stepping away from him. "The wedding's over. When can we leave?"

Jaime sighed. "We have to stay for a while. For the funeral…for Tyrion."

_He's right. Tyrion needs help. _She nodded, sitting on the bed, her back to him. "I don't want to talk anymore tonight. I just want to go to sleep." She was overwhelmed and needed to lie still and think. She heard Jaime moving around behind her – probably taking off his clothes – before he got into bed. Sansa took a deep breath before pulling back the bedclothes and lying on the edge of the bed. She wanted to crawl into Jaime's arms and pretend that she didn't know about him and Cersei, but she couldn't.

She thought about how Jaime made love to her, and imagined him doing the same things to Cersei. She felt a burning hatred for Cersei, the likes of which she'd never experienced and realized that it was jealousy. _She's why Jaime will never love me. Because he'll always only love her. _She gave in to the pain and cried into the pillow, trying to muffle the sound. She felt Jaime move closer to her and move his hand over her hair. She hated herself for leaning into his touch. "Please don't touch me. Not right now."

He moved his hand away, but his body stayed where it was, and he slept right next to her, the warmth of his body a comfort to her, though she would never admit it to anyone. Sansa felt so alone. There was no one she could talk to about the torrent of thoughts and emotions churning through her head. _How am I going to do this? How can I get through the rest of my life married to him, knowing that he fathered Joffrey with his sister? How am I going to have his children, knowing they could turn out like Joffrey? And knowing he will never love me?_

_..._

_Sorry for the drama, and for having to pain Sansa like that, but she had to find out sooner or later. Next Chapter: Jaime goes to see Tyrion_


	15. Chapter 15

_Thank you for hanging in through the drama, readers. I don't like having Sansa hurt either, but she and Jaime need to deal with the Cersei situation…a bit more drama ahead…_

_..._

Chapter 15

Jaime lay in bed, the sunrise lighting up his bedchamber, as he held Sansa, who was fast asleep in his arms. He had waited until she cried herself to sleep, and then gently taken her in his arms, risking her anger if she awoke. He needed to hold her. He'd hated watching her cry and not comforting her, even if it was at her request. So, once she fell asleep, he held her tightly in his arms through the night. He supposed he needed a little comfort himself.

Jaime felt like he had been through a brutal battle. Between Joffrey's death, Tyrion being taken prisoner for regicide and Sansa…Jaime glanced down at the girl in his arms._ I've hurt the one person I would never wish to hurt._ Jaime saw the revulsion in her eyes when he admitted to his sexual relationship with Cersei. He wasn't sure what it said about him that he felt a greater loss when Sansa pulled away from his touch last night than he felt as his son lay dead on the ground.

Jaime didn't know when she had come to mean so much to him, but he felt the pain deep in his heart when he saw the tears in her eyes. Tears that were there because of him. Jaime looked down at his wife, curled up against his chest, and was in no hurry for her to wake. He didn't want to see the pain in her eyes when she looked at him. Jaime had never been ashamed of his relationship with Cersei, until he saw the look on Sansa's face. _Things will never be the same between us. Yesterday, I thought she and I would be happy together once we left here. Now she can't even look at me. _He felt her stirring and softly stroked her hair. He watched her open her eyes and could see that she was still disoriented and dazed from sleep, and didn't remember. Not yet. Jaime cupped her cheek and lowered his mouth to hers. He felt her begin to kiss him back, wrapping her arms around his neck.

He knew the moment she remembered the night before, when she stiffened in his arms, her hands moving to his shoulders and pushing him away. _She has to listen to me. Really listen to me._ Jaime moved on top of her, caging her body beneath his and forcing her to lie still and listen to him. "Listen to me, Sansa." He could see the defiance in her eyes. _I suppose that's better than fear._ "I'm sorry it hurt you to hear the truth. I know that you've heard the…rumors before. It can't have been completely unexpected."

She blinked. "I knew it was possible," she whispered. "I was afraid to marry you, in case it was true because…Joffrey had to get his cruelty from somewhere. Your sister's very cruel, though, so perhaps it's from her." He smirked at her obvious dislike of Cersei. "But then, you were so kind and gentle with me…I didn't think you'd act as you did with me if it were true."

"Don't think I was pretending with you, because I wasn't. You _are_ my wife, Sansa. No matter what you think of me now, you will be by my side. You will share my bed; have my children. I can't change the past."

"It's not just your past, Jaime," she said quietly, finally looking at him. "She's here. She hates me. She's done so much to hurt me. Your…son with her, Tommen, is here. You'd have had me raise him and not even tell me he was your child."

"Sansa –"

"I know she's the reason you don't love me," she murmured, turning her head so she wouldn't have to look at him. He saw a tear roll down her cheek and reached out, wiping it away.

Jaime didn't know how to respond to her. "Not the way you think." She looked at him, not understanding. "I'm broken, Sansa. I don't think that I can be fixed. I don't think I know how to love anymore. I don't know if I want to. Love brings nothing but pain and destruction."

"I suppose it does," she whispered. _"_Do you still love her?"

"Not anymore." He saw that he had her attention with that. "You mean a great deal to me, Sansa." Jaime gently reached and touched her cheek. "Please believe that I care for you. That I want you." Jaime could see that she was torn.

"What do we do now?"

"Now, we're husband and wife. I _am_ yours. Just as you are mine." Sansa had fallen asleep in her robe and it had come open in her sleep and in her attempt to get out of Jaime's grasp. He was suddenly conscious of her naked body beneath his. He lowered his eyes and looked over her body without bothering to hide his appraisal. He couldn't help smirking and she struggled to pull her robe closed.

"Do you intend to take your rights as my husband now?"

Jaime leaned forward and kissed her nose. "Much as I'd like to indulge in your body, I know you don't want to be intimate with me again…just yet."

"You have the right to my body, whether I like it or not, my lord." Jaime raised an eyebrow. _Back to that, are we Sansa?_ "If it's all right, I'd like to get up now and get dressed," she said with cold courtesy.

"You're going to have to find a way to get past this. To be my wife."

"I don't know what you mean, my lord. I'm happy to be your wife."

Jaime sighed and moved off of her, letting her get out of bed. He leaned back against the pillows, watching Sansa as she walked into her dressing area. _I suppose I'll have to win the girl over, all over again._ Jaime knew that it would be far more difficult this time.

...

Sansa seemed glad when Jaime left her to go see Tyrion. He did some investigation around the keep before visiting his brother and Jaime didn't have any good news for him. As it turned out, Cersei had not stayed in her chamber long, dragging Tyrion's squire from his bed to question him, and having "witnesses" brought to her throughout the night. He had a good idea how her sister was getting information from them – with promises of money and her body – and that she cared little about the truth.

"Jaime," his brother said, brightening at his appearance. "Have you been able to reason with our horrible sister?"

He shook his head sadly. "There's no reasoning with her. I'd wager our sister doesn't favor me much more than you at this point." Tyrion raised an eyebrow in question. "I didn't show sufficient grief for the loss of the king for her taste."

"Then what do you suggest? She means to execute me and father won't stop her."

"There's always the trial. You may well be acquitted."

Tyrion turned from the window. "Who is to judge me?"

"Justice belongs to the throne. The king is dead, but father remains Hand. Since it is his own son who stands accused, and his grandson who was the victim, he has asked Lord Tyrell and Prince Oberyn to sit in judgment with him."

"Will I be allowed to demand trial by battle?"

"I would not advise that."

"Why not? Answer me, Jaime. Will I be allowed a trial by battle, and a champion to prove my innocence?"

"If you wish. However, you had best know that our sweet sister means to name Ser Gregor Clegane as _her_ champion, in the event of such a trial."

"That bitch checks my moves before I make them…I shall need to think on this."

"I'm sorry, Tyrion. If I still had my sword hand, you could demand your trial today, and you'd be free. I'm sorry I've failed you."

"You haven't failed me, Jaime. I know you'd be my champion if you could." Tyrion sat beside him. "Does Cersei have witnesses against me?"

"She was working through the night to gather witnesses. She'll get more and more every day. I don't expect we'll hear much truth from them."

"Then I must have witnesses of my own."

"Tell me who you would have, and Ser Addam will send the watch to bring them to the trial. Tyrion…what happened? Before Joffrey died."

"The king was in rare form. He designated me his cup bearer before bringing two dwarves in to joust – one riding a pig, the other a dog. Once that…amusement had passed, he ordered me to joust against the winner. Then he started screeching that I had not had any pigeon pie, and shoved into his own mouth. And he started choking. You saw the rest."

Jaime shook his head. "I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault, Jaime. You didn't raise him to be that way. _She_ did...Where were you, by the way?"

"I was…with Sansa. That was probably the first and last time I'll hear her say she loves me."

He could feel Tyrion's eyes on him. "I'm hesitant to say this, given that I'm the one about to be shortened by a head, but, Jaime, your look terrible."

He glanced up at Tyrion. "She asked if it was true…me and Cersei. Perhaps I should have lied…the look in her eyes…"

"Just tell her that it's _her_ you love, not Cersei, and all will be well."

"It would hurt her more to say I felt something I didn't."

Tyrion sighed in frustration. "Does our sister have you so twisted around that you don't even realize what it feels like to love someone? Look how broken you are at the prospect of Sansa never forgiving you. You love that girl, whether you realize it or not. Even father said something to me about not expecting you to be so besotted with the Stark girl."

Jaime listened to Tyrion's words, but he was still uncertain. Cersei had always told him that they could only love each other because they were two halves of one person. That they were only whole together. Though he had to admit that he now found it difficult to imagine his future as Lord of Casterly Rock without Sansa by his side. In such a short period of time, she had managed to firmly ensconce herself in his life. _And in my heart as well? Could I be that much of a fool?_ He'd dismissed his desire to return Sansa's words of love the day before as the effects of alcohol and a desire to please her but…now he wasn't certain.

Looking up at Tyrion, Jaime had a strong desire to change the subject. "We need to worry about getting you out of this mess. What do you need, Tyrion? What can I do?"

"Will my squire be permitted to come and go? The boy Podrick Payne?"

"Certainly. If that is your wish, I shall send him to you."

"Do so. The sooner the better." As Jaime opened the door, he heard Tyrion address him. "Brother?"

Ser Jaime paused. "Yes?"

"I did not do this. I would not kill your…I did not do this."

"I know."

...

One week after Joffrey's death, the mourning period ended, and the day of his funeral arrived. Joffrey's funeral service was at the Great Sept in the morning and Tommen's coronation feast was to be held that same evening. Jaime and Sansa were, of course, expected to attend the day's events, as members of the royal family. "My lady," Jaime said, offering Sansa his arm. She silently rested her hand on his arm as they left the tower of the hand to walk to the Great Sept. He could feel her stiffness and emotional discomfort as they walked together.

"I'm sorry you have to attend Joffrey's funeral. I know you don't mourn him."

"It's expected that we attend, my lord. I'm your wife and it is my duty to be by your side. You need not apologize."

Sansa had returned to her courtesies with a vengeance in the past week. He despised how cold and formal she was with him. The night after Joffrey's death, Sansa had climbed into bed wearing a nightgown and he'd nearly burst out laughing. He'd had no idea she even owned one. She shared his bed, but stubbornly stuck to her side, never cuddling against him as she had since the first night of their marriage. He would frequently catch her glancing at him, and he could see in her eyes that she wanted some closeness with him, but was denying it to herself. And to him.

The only time he could touch her, knowing that she wouldn't move away, was when they were in public, with others watching; or when she was fast asleep. Once he was sure that sleep had claimed his little wife, he would gently run his hand over her hair and kiss her forehead. Then he would carefully, so as not to wake her, take her in his arms, and hold her as she slept.

She had woken once, while he gently held her in her sleep, and he could see that she thought he was looking to fuck her. He was relieved not to see fear in her eyes, but her expression wasn't exactly welcoming, either. He couldn't deny that the thought of burying his cock inside of her was appealing, but he could see that she wasn't interested in resuming their sexual relationship. Not then, at least.

He looked her over as they walked to the Great Sept. Sansa looked dazzling in a black satin gown, with red swirls stitched into it. Her porcelain skin shone against the black, as did her shiny red hair. Her sadness over his past with Cersei was appropriate for the occasion – it would be mistaken as sadness for Joffrey's death. "You look beautiful this morning, Sansa."

"Thank you, my lord." He couldn't help wondering if she was actually _trying_ to aggravate him with her excessive courtesy. They remained silent for the remainder of the walk to the Great Sept, taking their seats in the front row, next to his father and sister.

Once they were seated, he saw her looking over at Cersei and there was no mistaking the absolute hatred in Sansa's gaze. _At least she doesn't look at me that way. _He knew if Sansa had the power, she would strike Cersei down dead right there. Jaime couldn't resist leaning over and whispering in her ear. "You have no reason to be jealous of her."

Sansa glared at him, and pulled her hand away from his.

"Do you actually intend to let her execute Tyrion," she whispered fiercely.

Her whispers gave him the excuse he wanted to lean close to her, his lips against her ear. "Don't worry, my lady, I won't allow her to harm him. Or you." Jaime was encouraged by the fact that Sansa didn't move away from him, and Jaime kept his arm around her waist, holding her against his side. He leaned over and softly kissed her temple, as she maintained her serene expression, as if his kiss had no effect on her. Jaime looked down at the ground, desperately missing the affections of his sweet little wife.

...

_Let me know what you think._

_Next Chapter: Tommen's Coronation Feast & Sansa confronts Cersei…_


	16. Chapter 16

_Thanks so much for all of the reviews! Enjoy the next chapter._

_..._

Chapter 16

After King Joffrey Baratheon's funeral service in the morning, all in attendance were expected to change out of their mourning clothes and into more festive finery for Tommen's coronation feast. Sansa sat in front of her mirror, thinking about how it had sickened her to listen to the Great Septon declare it a tragedy for Joffrey to die at such a young age, before he had the chance to rule the realm and see victory in the war of the five kings. Sansa felt that it was a mercy – both for her and for the realm. She'd be forever grateful that he died before any more innocents could be harmed.

Sansa looked down at her gown. She was the picture of a good Lannister wife, in crimson satin with tiny golden stones stitched into the bodice, that her handmaiden had laced her into. She always thought the color would look terrible with her hair, but she was wrong. Much as it pained her to admit it, Lannister red suited her. She finally decided she had to leave the bedchamber and face her Lannister family. Lord Tywin would not excuse tardiness for such an important night. The royal family was expected to enter the coronation feast together, meeting first in Lord Tywin's solar. Jaime had gone ahead without her – muttering that he'd had enough of her propriety.

Things had been awkward between them for the past week. Sansa could see that Jaime wanted things between them to go back to the way they had been, but she couldn't seem to get past the thought of him bedding his sister. It still pained her to think of him with her. Today, at the funeral, was the first time Sansa had seen the queen regent since learning the truth, and she could not seem to control the rage that bubbled up inside her at the sight of Cersei. She'd been annoyed when Jaime had mockingly said she had no reason to be jealous, but the truth was, she was jealous. She was jealous that Jaime would never love her as he loved Cersei.

Sansa slowly made her way to Lord Tywin's solar, and heard his voice as she approached the door. "Now that Tommen is on the throne, we need to turn our attention to another marriage," Lord Tywin began.

"He's a child, father," Cersei whispered, incensed. Sansa hovered just outside the door and saw that in addition to Cersei and Lord Tywin, Jaime and Ser Kevan were also present. Tommen was not there yet, so at least she was not the last to arrive.

"I didn't mean his marriage. I meant yours, Cersei," Lord Tywin replied.

Suddenly, Sansa was quite interested in their conversation. Perhaps he will send her far, far away. _Lord Tywin should give her to Theon – they deserve each other. And Cersei would hate being a Kraken and living in the Iron Isles._ The topic of the queen regent remarrying must have come up suddenly, because Sansa saw that Cersei could only stare at her father for a moment. Then her cheeks reddened as if she had been slapped. "No. Not again. I've told you, I will not."

"Your grace," said Ser Kevan courteously, "you are a young woman, still fair and fertile. Surely you cannot wish to spend the rest of your days alone?"

Sansa noticed that Cersei was looking to Jaime for help. Sansa looked at him as well, choosing that moment to step into the room to make her presence known. _He'd best not even think of preventing Lord Tywin from marrying her off._ Jaime turned away from his sister, feeling Sansa's gaze on him, and turned to her, smiling softly. Jaime rose and walked toward her, taking her hand and kissing it, his mouth lingering on her hand much longer than necessary. Sansa couldn't stop herself from glancing over at Cersei, who was watching them intently and clearly did not appreciate Jaime walking away from her when she wanted him to support her against Lord Tywin.

"You must have a new husband in your bed, to father children on you," Lord Tywin continued, as Sansa smiled to herself. _Yes, marry her off to someone she doesn't want or love. It's what she deserves._

"Three children is quite sufficient. I am Queen of the Seven Kingdoms, not a brood mare! The Queen Regent!"

Sansa wasn't sure what possessed her, other than her own jealousy of Cersei, but she leaned against Jaime, resting her hand on his chest and allowed him to wrap his arm around her shoulders. Sansa glanced between Cersei and Lord Tywin innocently. She felt Jaime's lips against her ear. "I never thought I would enjoy a family argument so much…it seems my sister's presence has made you quite affectionate," he whispered, kissing her near her ear. She looked at him sharply, careful that the others did not see her annoyance.

"Sansa, you look lovely tonight," Ser Kevan said, noticing her presence.

"She does, doesn't she," Jaime said, tilting her chin up to softly kiss her. He met her eyes, and winked. She could see that he understood she would never allow Cersei to see that there was anything wrong between them. She could feel Cersei's glare, but she felt no fear as she would have before. _Jaime won't let her touch me._ Sansa meant to move from Jaime's arms, but he maintained his grip on her waist.

Tommen came into the solar to join them, escorted by two members of the Kingsguard. Cersei fussed over the little king, though it was strange to see, since Cersei had only ever been interested in Joffrey before. Sansa realized that Cersei only cared about herself and about power. Now that Tommen was king, he had the power she craved. Once the king was present, they were ready to depart for the coronation feast. Sansa took Jaime's arm, allowing him to lead her to the banquet and Tommen ran to catch up with them, taking her other hand. "Can I walk with you?" he asked hopefully.

Sansa looked down at his little face, so like Jaime's, smiling up at her. She could feel Jaime's eyes on her as she considered his son. A child he got on his sister. "Of course, your grace," she said, smiling, as he happily skipped alongside them.

"I got two new kittens today."

"What do they look like?" Sansa looked over at Jaime as Tommen described each kitten. It was strange to her that Tommen was his son, yet he never really spoke to the child or spent time with him. "Your grace," she began, "tell your … tell your Uncle about the new pony you got. I remember that you wish to learn to joust. Jaime might be able to teach you," she said quietly.

Tommen's face lit up as he babbled on to Jaime about how he wished to compete in tournaments – though how he would do so on that tiny pony, Sansa knew not. As they continued walking through the Red Keep, she felt Jaime's hand cover hers and gently squeeze it. She knew that it was his way of thanking her for showing kindness to Tommen, even after learning that he was Jaime's bastard. She thought about her mother and how she had felt about Jon Snow. She understood the pain that her mother must have felt. At least Jaime had not betrayed her – his relationship with Cersei occurred before he and Sansa had even met.

_I wonder if he will still come with us to Casterly Rock. _Sansa had not been thrilled at the prospect of raising Jaime and Cersei's child but…Tommen was very sweet. He was nothing like Joffrey and perhaps she and Jaime could make sure he never became like his older brother. _And Cersei hates the idea of Tommen going with us to Casterly Rock,_ Sansa thought. _It makes me like it even more._ She looked down at the sweet little cherub holding her hand and knew that she could come to love Tommen and help to raise him, despite his lineage.

She glanced at Jaime and was startled to meet his eyes. Looking in his eyes, she saw how much he regretted causing her pain. He had been trying to win her over, despite her deliberately cold manner towards him. Sansa knew that it was entirely in her power to make things easy between them. But she couldn't seem to let herself give in to him. She had felt such pain when Jaime had told her the truth. She had realized that she'd made a huge mistake to let Jaime into her heart. If she had not felt anything for Jaime – if she had not fallen in love with him – it would not have hurt her to hear about he and Cersei. _A woman's courtesy is her armor_. That's what Septa Mordane had always told her. _If I can get him out of my heart…it will stop hurting._ _I don't know what else I can do._

...

The Throne Room was filled with lords and ladies from throughout the realm. They had been in the capitol for the wedding, and simply stayed the week for the funeral and coronation. The little king did not stay long at the feast, as his bedtime came early in the evening. Tommen's absence did not stop the feast from roaring on, as barrel after barrel of Dornish wine was rolled out and the music and dancing never stopped.

The night couldn't end soon enough for Sansa. She found it difficult to be so close to Jaime when their relationship was so strained. Jaime had tried to engage her in conversation a few times, but her politely indifferent responses to him had ended those efforts rather quickly. She supposed it was childish of her to address him as if he were a stranger, with the cold courtesy she had been taught by her septa and which she knew he hated. But it was the only way she could think of to numb the pain of the images in her head of Jaime and Cersei together.

She was distracted from her thoughts when the queen regent returned to the table, sitting on the other side of Jaime. Sansa couldn't hear what was said, but she watched as Cersei leaned toward Jaime, speaking low in his ear. Sansa sipped her wine, pretending to take no notice of the Lannister twins beside her, and watched as Cersei leaned towards Jaime, no doubt intending to give him a good view down the front of her dress. Sansa felt her stomach clench as the queen regent placed her hand on Jaime's leg, though he immediately removed it. _How dare she act that way with my husband right in front of me? Does she think I'm that weak to allow her to grope him right beside me?_

"Will you dance with me, my love," Jaime said, turning to her. She nodded, taking Jaime's hand and allowing him to lead her to the dance floor. She saw Cersei watching them and moved closer to Jaime, resting her hand at the back of his neck, claiming him as her own. Jaime seemed to know what she was doing, judging by the smirk on his face – and he was only too happy to play along. He lowered his head, kissing her more passionately than was appropriate.

"Jaime," she whispered, in protest.

"We're newlyweds," he said with a smile. "We're supposed to be affectionate. Inappropriately so, even," he said as she rested her head against his chest, her lips tingling from his kiss. As hurt and angry as she was, Sansa was still attracted to him, and she sometimes found herself unable to control her body's reaction to him. Though she did not want Jaime to know that she still wanted him - that a part of her wanted the physical comfort her could offer her.

Sansa smiled to herself as Cersei angrily rose from her seat and strode across the throne room. "What was she talking to you about," she asked quietly.

"She asked me to kill Tyrion. Again." Sansa's eyes widened in shock. "Now, I expect she's persuading others to serve as witnesses. I'm sure you can imagine how she's convincing them." _She's such a vile, horrible person. How could Jaime ever have loved her?_

Before long, Garlan Tyrell, Margaery's dashing brother, cut in and Jaime returned to the table, sitting beside his father, but Sansa noticed that his eyes never left her. Sansa watched Cersei, flirting and chatting through the crowd, and knew what Jaime meant about how she was gathering witnesses against Tyrion. She was probably promising money and influence and who knew what else if they would accuse her brother of killing Joffrey.

After several dances, Sansa made her way back to her seat beside Jaime, but before she could sit down, he pulled her onto his lap. She was about to protest, when she saw Cersei watching and heard Jaime's voice in her ear. "Look around, Sansa, everyone's in their cups. Impropriety's expected this late in the evening."

The wine had been freely flowing all evening, and it seemed to have had a profound effect on the royal court. At least ten men had women on their laps – in many cases not their wives; she saw several couples in passionate embraces in not-so-hidden corners of the hall; and Prince Oberyn Martell's hand was casually inside his companion's gown as he fondled her breast. It was most shocking. She'd never heard it was like this at court.

She gave in to her husband, mainly because of Cersei's gaze, and settled onto his lap, sipping her wine nervously. She supposed it was relatively harmless. Though it didn't appear to be enough for him to simply hold her on his lap, as she felt his fingers rubbing over her leg and his nose nuzzling against her neck. "This feels nice," he mumbled against her neck. "Holding you…touching you."

She looked at him and saw that his eyes were a bit glassy. He leaned his head up and began softly kissing her. Sansa felt her body heat as he kissed her. "How much wine have you had, Jaime?" she asked breathlessly, as she broke their kiss.

"Not near enough to get through another night without making love to you," he whispered, and she felt herself blush. It had been over a week since she and Jaime had been intimate. She had expected him to simply take her, as was his right, but so far he had not. The anticipation was getting to her. Every night, she cautiously crawled into their bed, wondering if that was the night he was going to pounce on her, and wondering how she would possibly be able to let him kiss and touch her and not soften her manner towards him. "You look amazing tonight," he murmured, his eyes fixed on her breasts.

She tilted his chin up to her face. "Perhaps we should get you to bed, my lord," she said, instantly regretting her choice of words, when she took in the lecherous smile on his face.

"My father wished to speak to me briefly before we left. Give me a few minutes and then I'll happily get into bed with you."

"I can meet you there," she said, rising from his lap.

"You're certain?"

She nodded. "I have nothing to fear walking the halls of the keep now, my lord." Sansa had enjoyed a new freedom with Joffrey's death. She freely wandered through the Red Keep, knowing that there was no one who would dare harm Jaime Lannister's wife. Sansa slowly meandered off toward the tower of the hand.

"Jaime's certainly managed to take the lady out of you." She heard the queen regent's voice behind her. "I never thought I'd see you act as a common whore."

Sansa took a deep breath and turned to face her. "Have you decided on a new husband, your grace?" Sansa asked with false sweetness.

"That's none of your business."

"Of course it is. We are sisters now. Though, I suppose, given your relationship with Jaime, you may not understand the proper relationship between siblings." _I can't believe I said that._

She could see the rage in Cersei's eyes. "My father will have your tongue out if you repeat such things."

"Jaime told me the truth," Sansa said calmly, though her heart was beating so fast she feared it might leap from her chest.

Cersei smiled. "Then you understand why I told you that Jaime could never love you. I will always have his heart. I will always be the mother of his children." The Queen Regent moved closer to Sansa, lowering her voice to a whisper. "He will always wish he was fucking me instead of you."

Sansa felt a blind rage come over her. "No. I will be the mother of his true-born children. You're the mother of his bastards." Cersei raised her hand to strike her and Sansa held out her hand, preventing Cersei from slapping her. "I am Jaime's wife – the future Lady of Casterly Rock. You will not strike me as if I was one of your maids. Jaime is _my_ husband and he shares _my_ bed, not yours," she said fiercely.

Before Cersei could respond, Sansa felt Jaime's arm wrap around her waist. "You'll not ever raise a hand to my wife, Cersei." She saw the rage building inside the queen regent, but Jaime ignored her, looking Sansa in the eye, a smirk fixed on his face. "I think it's time to take my little she-wolf to bed," he said suggestively.

In front of Cersei, after what she had said, Sansa had no choice but to appear as if she approved of his suggestion, as they left Cersei stewing in the hallway. When they reached the entrance to the tower of the hand, Jaime pushed her against the wall and kissed her, his tongue tangling with hers. She couldn't stop herself from moaning. "I never thought you had much wolf in you, Sansa," he whispered as he rested his head against hers, gazing into her eyes. "It appears I was very wrong."

Jaime wrapped his arm around her again, walking with her to their chamber. Sansa saw that she had aroused him with her words to Cersei and she's wasn't sure what to say to him. She had not intended for him to hear what she said. She didn't want him to know how possessive she was about him. It surprised even Sansa how venomous she felt toward Cersei and how fiercely she wanted Jaime for herself. They were quiet for the rest of the walk to their chamber, though Sansa was acutely aware of the lust Jaime was feeling for her tonight.

When they reached their bedchamber, Jaime plopped down on the bed and started peeling away his clothes. Sansa scurried behind the privacy screen she had taken to changing behind at night. She had already removed her gown and smallclothes, and had just reached for her nightgown when she heard his voice behind her. "You won't need that tonight."

She wasn't really surprised, after that kiss, and her words to his sister, that Jaime wanted to bed her. _I'm going to do my duty to my husband. That's all this is. _Sansa's mother had always told her that when she became a married woman, it was her duty to please her husband in the bedchamber. _You've done this with him many times. This time is no different. _

Sansa watched his hand slide around her waist and felt him kissing her shoulder. "Turn around," he whispered against her neck.

She slowly turned to face him and saw that he was naked as well. "It's been far too long since I've made love to you. I expect you could use some pleasure as well, Sansa." He scooped her into his arms and carried her to the bed. "You deserve pleasure, after all the pain I've caused you." _I will be a good wife to him. Whether he deserves it or not._

Jaime gently placed her on the bed and climbed on with her. Jaime settled himself on top of her and covered her mouth with his own. She rested her hands on his shoulders and hesitantly returned his kisses. His hand was caressing her breast as he kissed her. His hand and his mouth were everywhere, kissing, teasing and caressing her. _He's done these same things to Cersei. Kissed her and touched her breasts as he does yours. Been inside of her. He's probably thinking of her right now. _She tried to shut off her mind, but the thoughts kept coming and he noticed something was not right with her.

"What's wrong?" he asked, stroking her cheek. She thought about telling him that she was not ready to do this with him again. That there were far too many emotions swirling within her. That she was terrified that she was going to spend her life in love with a man who didn't love her back. That she was afraid that if they made love, she'd never get over him.

_I must do my duty_. "Nothing's wrong. Go ahead. It's your right, Jaime."

She could see that he was hurt by her words. "Tell me what's wrong, Sansa. Please."

"I can't stop thinking about you and…" she met his eyes, not wanting to say her name, and hating the tears in her eyes.

"Don't think about her. I'm not thinking about her. I'm only thinking of you, Sansa. Don't think of anyone but me."

He kissed her softly and looked at her so tenderly that it would be so easy to believe that he loved her. She nodded, feeling more vulnerable than she had on their wedding night. She felt his hand move between her legs, softly stroking her the way she liked and murmuring in her ear. "You are everything to me, Sansa. My beautiful bride. My sweet, gentle, perfect little wife." _I love you, Sansa. _She could almost hear the words she needed to hear fall from his mouth.

Sansa felt herself relax and Jaime held her body close, kissing her over and over and he continued whispering sweet words in her ear between kisses. "I've missed having you in my arms…I've missed your little touches…your kisses…Sansa…I've missed my sweet girl." She gasped as he entered her, filling her completely. She could hear him murmuring her name over and over into her ear as he thrust in and out of her.

Jaime pulled one of her legs over his shoulder, thrusting deep into her, and gazed at her, so intently, it almost scared her. She heard him again say her name over and over. She knew what he was doing – he was showing her that he was only thinking of her. She cursed herself as she felt her body tighten as it prepared to peak and heard his name on her lips.

She felt tears at the corners of her eyes as her body began shaking in pleasure and she loudly moaned his name. She felt Jaime pin her down and increase the speed of his thrusts until he exploded inside of her. His eyes stayed focused on hers and saw that the emotion in his eyes mirrored what she was feeling. "We belong here together," he murmured in her ear. He slid partly off of her, keeping one leg wrapped around her and slid down her body, resting his head against her breasts. His good hand absently played with one of her nipples while he kissed and gently sucked on the other, as they waited for their heart rates to slow.

Sansa felt herself giving in to him as she lay in his arms. It would be so easy to forget about Cersei and just love him; and just let him hold her and make love to her every night. Sansa had to distance herself from him. "Did that please you, my lord," she asked, as if she were sitting across from him at the dinner table, not lying naked in their bed as he suckled on her breasts.

She could hear the disappointment and annoyance in his voice. "My seed on your thighs should tell you that I enjoyed it. Just as your little moans and cries told me you enjoyed me fucking you." She flinched at his choice of words. _It serves you right for trying to push him away. It hurt him. Though not nearly as much as he hurt me._ "Are you planning to be this cold to me for the rest of our lives? Over something I did before you became my wife?"

Sansa rolled onto her side, curling herself up with her back to him. _He's right. I don't think I can do this forever._ She felt his hand stroking her back and then sliding over her hip before Jaime pulled her into his arms.

"Will you let me hold you?"

"Is that what you would do with her? Hold her in your arms after? Sleep with her in your arms?"

"No…she'd never let me just hold her. She never let me sleep with her in my arms as you do – as you did," he corrected. "You are the only woman who has ever been only mine. The only woman whose ever held me and comforted me. You're the only woman I've made love to slowly, for hours, as we have before." Sansa felt herself blush at the memory. "There's no comparing you to anyone, Sansa. And no comparing how I feel about you, to how I've felt about anyone else."

Sansa kept her face turned away from him, not wanting him to see how much his words affected her. She looked down at his arms wrapped around her. She so needed some comfort and she always felt so safe in his arms. Sansa hesitantly reached for his golden hand. He was breathing hard against her neck as she unfastened each buckle, until she pulled the golden hand away, placing it on the night table and clutched his stump, holding it against her chest, between her breasts and leaving him as bare and vulnerable as she was. Then, Sansa closed her eyes and Jaime nuzzled his face in against her neck.

_He's my husband. This is what I'm supposed to do. I'm supposed to let him make love to me and hold me in his arms. _Sansa wished that it didn't feel so good to be intimate wiht Jaime. She wished that she didn't still love him as much as she did. _I'll do better. I can be a good wife to him without loving him as I do. _Sansa closed her eyes and said a prayer to the seven that one day, she wouldn't even think about his past with Cersei – that it wouldn't hurt her; and, in a moment of weakness, she prayed that one day Jaime would love her as she loved him.

...

_Don't think all is well between them at this point - they still have to deal with Sansa's hurt, Cersei's presence and Jaime's issues with love - but realistically, there's no way there wouldn't have been something physical between them, since they are married._

_Next chapter: Tyrion's trial & Jaime tries to figure out what he feels for Sansa_


	17. Chapter 17

_I wasn't going to post this until tomorrow, but there were so many reviews, I decided to put the next chapter up early. Hope you enjoy it!_

_..._

Chapter 17

Sometime in the night, Sansa had climbed on top of him, her arms and legs wrapped around him tightly. After a week of fitful sleeping, Jaime had finally slept soundly once he'd made love to Sansa and fallen asleep with her in his arms. He had been tempted, each and every night for the past week, to exercise his marital rights to his little wife's body, but something had held him back. Probably the fear of being rejected_._ He never would have forced himself on her, had she resisted his attempt to bed her. The wine he'd had at the coronation feast had given him the courage to try to resume the physical side of their relationship.

Jaime was relieved that she had let him be close to her, but he had hated seeing the vulnerability in her eyes when he was making love to her. He hated seeing how afraid she was of her love for him. She was plainly terrified that he would break her heart – as he already had when she learned the truth about his relationship with Cersei. He knew that her courtesies were her way of protecting herself from her feelings for him. Her way of creating distance between them. He wished she wasn't afraid. Not that he was any braver than her, when it came to love.

He'd said everything he could to reassure her of his feelings for her, short of saying "I love you." _That's the one thing she wants to hear. _Sansa may say that she knows life isn't a song, but he knew if her handsome knight told her he loved her, she'd forgive him. She was so alone in this world, and all she wanted was to love someone who loved her in return. He knew her well enough to know that. And it wasn't much she was asking for – to be loved by her husband.

Jaime couldn't deny that Sansa had become tremendously important to him; that he wanted her beside him for the rest of his life; and that he felt at peace with her in his arms. Jaime looked down at the stump on the end of his right hand, resting on her hip. He would only remove the golden hand in front of her. She was the only one who made him feel safe enough to expose his disfigurement. _Maybe I do love her. Though, what I feel for her is nothing like what I felt for Cersei._ Jaime had been absently running his hand over her body, and he felt her begin to stir.

Jaime moved his hand to her hair, running his fingers over it and kissing the top of her head before she lifted it from his chest to look him in the eyes. He could plainly see that she was embarrassed, though he couldn't figure out why. They'd had sex countless times in the two moons since they had been married. "What's the matter, Sansa? You seem out of sorts. Surely you're not embarrassed about our activities last night," he teased. "We've brought each other such pleasure many times since we've been married."

"I – I'm glad that I pleased you," she said, avoiding his gaze by looking down at his chest.

Jaime carefully rolled them over so he was on top of her, still resting between her thighs. He kissed her neck, moving towards her ear and then nuzzled against her neck, before looking into her clear blue eyes. "I've missed this," he offered hesitantly. "Waking up with you in my arms. Spending the morning holding and kissing and touching you."

"I wish to be a good wife to you, my lord. And…if it pleases you to hold me in your arms, then it pleases me." _She's a stubborn little thing. _

He moved off of her a bit, his eyes scanning over her. "Your eyes give you away, my lady," he murmured as he focused on her face. "I know you've missed this, too, Sansa. I can be a good husband to you if you give me the chance." He whispered his last thought, almost to himself.

"As you wish, my lord." He could hear the hesitation and waver in her voice, as her shaking hand reached toward him, gently stroking his hair. _I know you want to give me a chance, Sansa. _He had a sinking feeling that her walls would stay up until he was able to tell her that he loved her. _What if I can't ever love her? _Jaime didn't want to live the rest of his life with her distance. And he didn't want Sansa to spend the rest of her life with her guard up.

He leaned forward, softly kissing her and relaxing a bit as Sansa slowly returned his kiss. "I think I'll go to the practice field before the trial. We'll go to the throne room together." He kissed her once more before rising from the bed and walking to the washbasin. He could feel her eyes on his body as he splashed cold water on his face and pulled on his clothes. He glanced back at her as he stood in their doorway, smiling faintly at the sight of Sansa, curled up in his bed. _I don't ever want to lose this. I don't ever want to wake up without my sweet little wife curled up next to me._

...

Sansa sat beside Jaime, in the gallery overlooking the Throne Room, awaiting the start of Tyrion's trial for the murder of Joffrey Baratheon. Hundreds had crowded in to see him judged. A long table had been brought in and placed before the Iron Throne. Behind it sat Lord Mace Tyrell in a gold mantle over green, and Prince Oberyn Martell in flowing robes of striped orange, yellow and scarlet. Lord Tywin sat between them. Sansa wasn't certain the chosen judges would be fair to Tyrion. She watched as he was led in by a dozen gold cloaks and couldn't help being reminded of watching her father led before the crowd on the steps of the Great Sept, and she moved closer to Jaime, linking her arm through his.

He glanced over at her, no doubt wondering why she was seeking to be close to him, after all of her efforts to create distance. "Are you all right?" he asked, kissing the top of her head. She nodded and the High Septon began the trial with a prayer, asking the Father Above to guide them to justice.

When he was done, Lord Tywin leaned forward and asked, "Tyrion, did you kill King Joffrey?"

Tyrion did not hesitate to answer. "No."

"Well, that's a relief," said Oberyn Martell dryly.

"Who did then?" Mace Tyrell asked.

"The gods killed Joffrey. He choked on his pigeon pie." _If that's true_, Sansa thought, _then the gods are merciful and just._

Lord Tyrell reddened. "You would blame the bakers?"

"Them, or the pigeons. Just leave me out of it." Sansa felt Jaime sharply intake his breath.

"Guard your tongue, you fool, before it digs your grave," Jaime muttered, though his brother could not hear him.

She glanced across the open air to Margaery, who was wearing mourning clothes in the gallery opposite them, flanked by her mother, grandmother, and her ladies. Sansa carefully looked over each and every one of them, wondering which actually poisoned Joffrey. Jaime leaned over and whispered in her ear. "Don't be so obvious." She looked at him in question. "There is accusation in your eyes, when you look at them."

She had told Jaime this morning that she would testify to what Margaery said, but Jaime had refused to allow her to draw attention to herself in any manner during the trial, fearing that if she did, Cersei and the Tyrells would try to throw some of the blame on her. Sansa couldn't stop herself from offering again. "I could testify for Tyrion –"

"No," he whispered. "Tyrion would not want you to endanger yourself either."

"I would only be speaking the truth."

He looked at her seriously. "Sansa, I know you've not forgotten what became of your father, when he spoke the truth. The truth doesn't set anyone free here." She couldn't argue with that and turned her attention back to the trial.

"There are witnesses against you," Lord Tywin said to Tyrion. "We shall hear them first. Then you may present your own witnesses. You are to speak only with our leave." She saw Tyrion nod weakly.

The first witness ushered in was Ser Balon Swann of the Kingsguard. "Lord Hand," he began, after being sworn in to only speak the truth. "I had the honor to fight beside your son on the bridge of ships. He is a brave man for all his size, and I will not believe he did this thing."

A murmur went through the hall and Sansa turned to Jaime. "Why would Cersei offer a witness that believes him innocent?" she whispered.

"Keep listening."

She listened as Ser Balon spoke reluctantly of how he had pulled Tyrion away from Joffrey on the day of the riot. "He did strike His Grace, that's so. It was a fit of wroth, no more. A summer storm. The mob near killed us all." Sansa shuddered as she remembered the riot, and how she'd nearly been raped after several men chased her into an alley. Until the Hound came for her and killed them all.

Ser Meryn Trant was called next and Sansa must have visibly tensed at his presence, because Jaime gently rested his hand on hers. Ser Meryn was more than happy to condemn Tyrion in speaking about the riot. "He knocked the king to the ground and began kicking him. He shouted that it was unjust that His Grace had escaped unharmed from the mobs."

Ser Meryn went on to relate how Tyrion had stopped Joffrey from beating her, and Sansa felt her heart begin to beat faster. "The dwarf asked His Grace if he knew what had happened to Aerys Targaryen. When Ser Boros spoke up in defense of the king, the Imp threated to have him killed."

Tyrion interrupted him. "Tell the judges what Joffrey was _doing_, why don't you?" Lord Tywin merely instructed Tyrion to remain silent.

"Why won't they hear that Joffrey was having me beaten?" she whispered to Jaime insistently.

Jaime looked at her and saw her distress. "I know it's not fair, Sansa. But Cersei will not allow anyone to speak a word against Joffrey."

"It's the truth."

Jaime squeezed her hand. "There's little room for truth in here."

The Kettleblacks came next, all three of them in turn and Sansa felt Jaime tense beside her. She remembered what he had told her about seeing Cersei coupling with Osmund Kettleblack, and realized that was what bothered him – thinking about Cersei with another man – and she felt a stab of pain that he still cared who shared his sister's bed.

Sansa had been quite out of sorts this morning, waking up sprawled on top of Jaime, the both of them naked, as the memory of their lovemaking the night before had flooded back to her. His words to her last night had effectively seduced her and she had given in to the pleasure. It certainly made it difficult for her to maintain any sort of distance from him. When he'd told her this morning that he had missed their intimacy, she wanted to say that she did as well, but had been afraid. Now that she saw his clear anger at the sight of his sister's new lover, Sansa was glad she'd held her tongue.

Ser Osmund's testimony was the most damaging of them all, swearing that King Joffrey had long known that his uncle Tyrion meant to murder him. "It was the day they gave me the white cloak, my lords," he told the judges. "That brave boy said to me, 'Good Ser Osmund, guard me well, for my uncle loves me not. He means to be king in my place.'"

She saw Jaime's jaw tense and knew he was thinking about how Cersei would repay Ser Osmund for such testimony. She looked down at her hands, telling herself not to cry, and trying not to feel pain at what she saw as Jaime's jealousy over Cersei bedding another. _I made a mistake with him last night – letting him touch me with his words._ Sansa found herself distracted for the rest of the trial, as she tried to control her emotions and numb her aching heart.

...

Following the day of testimony, Jaime went, with a heavy heart, to speak to Tyrion. Lord Tywin had all but assured him that Tyrion would be convicted and executed and had ordered Jaime to go to him with an offer that would resolve the matter and spare Tyrion's life.

"Jaime," Tyrion said, refilling his wine cup, "did you and sweet Sansa enjoy the spectacle? I believe the two of you were the ones there whose presence did not nauseate me."

"Sansa…she's repeatedly asked to testify for you. To speak of Joffrey's cruelty to her and…accuse Margaery Tyrell."

Tyrion lowered his cup. "I certainly hope you forbade any such insanity."

"I did, but, I thought you should know."

"Starks are foolishly honest to the end. Good thing she married a Lannister to curb that tendency," Tyrion said with a smile. "She is very sweet, your wife. I thought I had such a sweet wife, once." Jaime hated when Tyrion brought up Tysha. It never failed to fill him with guilt for not having the courage to stand up to his father all those years ago. "Sansa seemed a bit out of sorts, from what I could see."

Jaime nodded. "She's still quite…heartbroken."

"She needs to know that you love her, not our bitch of a sister. Cersei has you so twisted around when it comes to love. She may succeed in taking my head, but don't allow her to destroy your life with Sansa." Tyrion took another swallow of wine. "Now she parades her lovers through to spread her lies. That awful Kettleblack was the worst of them. I wonder if father cares that she's paid for his testimony on her back."

Jaime laughed bitterly. It had infuriated him to see Cersei present her lover to spread such lies against Tyrion. And to see her take such delight in the prospect of killing her own brother. As he watched Cersei lead Kettleblack around by his cock, he couldn't help but realize that she'd done the same to him his entire life. And he hated her for it. "I don't know that father cares about truth one way or the other but, he has sent me here with an offer. It doesn't look good for you, in there. Perhaps the time has come for you to confess," he said.

"Say that again brother? I could swear you urged me to confess."

"If you were to admit your guilt before the throne and repent of your crime, father would withhold the sword. You would be permitted to take the black."

Tyrion had laughed in his face. "Those were the same terms Cersei offered Eddard Stark. Sweet Sansa can remind you how _that_ ended."

"Father had no part in that. And I was not here."

"That much is true, at least. You expect me to believe that if I admit to being a kinslayer and a kingslayer father will simply nod, forgive me and pack me off to the Wall with some warm woolen smallclothes."

"I wouldn't expect forgiveness," Jaime said dryly. "He wants the matter put to rest. A confession would do that. I believe it is for that reason father sends me with this offer."

"Thank him kindly for me, Brother," said Tyrion, "but tell him I am not presently in the confessing mood."

"Our sister wants your head, and Lord Tyrell at least, is inclined to give it to her. His precious Margaery was drinking from the poisoned cup."

"Didn't you tell me his precious Margaery was likely a part of the plot?" Tyrion asked in a low voice.

"You don't actually expect him to acknowledge that." Jaime sighed. "Tyrion, the North would be a safer place for you than King's Landing, whatever the outcome of the trial. The mob is convinced of your guilt. Were you so foolish as to venture out into the streets, they would tear you limb from limb. That is not something I would wish to see. Nor would I wish to see Cersei take your head."

"I…I will think on what you said."

"Please think carefully," Jaime said as he turned to leave. "I'm trying to think of another way out of this for you."

Tyrion nodded. "Thank you, Jaime. If she does succeed in killing me, don't let her end your life as well."

"You think she'll be killing me, next?"

"I meant, Sansa. Don't let her destroy the life that you could have with her, if you would only let yourself."

...

Jaime had dinner for he and Sansa brought into his solar, having no interest in dining with his family after watching his father and sister's behavior at the trial and being sent in to offer Tyrion a lifetime at the Wall. Their dinner had been near completely silent as Sansa listlessly picked at her food. He couldn't figure out what had bothered her so much – if it was concern for Tyrion or the memory of Joffrey's treatment of her. She had resisted all of his efforts to engage her in conversation. Sansa was now curled up in a big chair with her needlepoint and he was on the sofa trying to think of a way to help Tyrion. _At least she'll spend her evenings in the same room with me._

After spending over an hour thinking about the trial and failing to come up with a way to help his brother, Jaime's head was beginning to ache. Jaime looked over at Sansa. She looked so delicate and so beautiful. He wished he knew what had sent her scurrying back behind her walls today. She must have felt his gaze because she suddenly looked up and met his eyes. "I'm glad you're here with me, Sansa. I enjoy your presence."

"That's kind of you to say, my lord."

"How long is this going to go on for," he asked in exasperation. "I know this doesn't come natural to you. That you force yourself to be formal with me. What's stopping you from going back to where we were?"

"I'm scared," she whispered.

"Of me?"

She shook her head, looking down at her hands. "Of how I feel about you."

He felt horrible as she looked up and met his eyes. The pain there was apparent to him and he would do anything to wipe it away. Jaime held out his hand to her. "Come here, Sansa. Please." Trembling, she slowly walked over to Jaime and took his hand. She stood there for a moment, as if she still wasn't sure if she would let him comfort her, before she sat beside him on the sofa. Jaime slowly put his arm around her shoulders and Sansa moved into his arms, cuddling against Jaime's chest and wrapping her arms around his shoulders as he hugged her tightly. Jaime realized that he felt whole, just holding her. _She really does belong here in my arms._ He felt her tears against his neck and hated himself. "Please tell me what I can do to fix this."

"Why did you love her? What about her made you love her?"

Jaime certainly had not expected her to ask that. "Cersei and I…we're twins, you know that." She nodded. "She would always say that we were two halves of the same person. That we belonged together because it was the only way we were a whole person. That when she looked at me she saw herself. Her male self." He could see from her expression that Sansa didn't understand.

"You're not half a person, Jaime." She rested her head against his chest. "You didn't answer my question. What about her did you love?"

Jaime realized that he didn't have an answer for her. "I don't know." _I can't think of a single thing about Cersei that I loved. Every word I would use to describe Sansa, everything I value in her, doesn't exist in Cersei. She's not kind, gentle, affectionate…Cersei's none of those things._

"Did loving her make you happy?"

He laughed to himself. "I'd say it brought me tremendous pain to watch Robert go to her bed; For Robert be the father to my children…never able to touch her publicly, to claim her publicly; to give up having a whole life, for her…No, it didn't make me happy."

"Being in love with someone…it's supposed to make you happy," she said quietly. "My mother always told me that being in love makes you feel safe and secure, that it brings you peace, that being with the one you love brings out the best in you and gives you strength, that all your troubles fade away when you're in the arms of the one you love. Love is supposed to make you happy, Jaime."

Jaime sighed, stretching his legs out onto the table in front of him, never letting go of Sansa as she cautiously curled against him. "Has it made you happy?" he asked seriously.

"Not at the moment but…it did," she whispered, looking at her hands in embarrassment.

"Why does it embarrass you that loving me made you happy?"

She shrugged. "Because I don't make you happy. You don't love me. You love her. It was stupid of me to think that you could…"

"Sansa, I told you, I don't love her anymore."

"Then why were you so jealous to see Osmund Kettleblack testify today? Her new lover?"

_That's why she's been so upset. She thinks I'm jealous._ Jaime sometimes forgot how young she was and that their relationship must overwhelm her emotions at times. "I was angry – not jealous. I was angry because of what she's doing to Tyrion. Bringing in her lovers and paying people, so she can kill Tyrion. Kettleblack can have her." Jaime reached out and gently touched her face. "How can you say that you don't make me happy? You have made me so happy, sweet girl. What you feel for me is real. And you have nothing to be ashamed of. I'd like to make you happy again."

Sansa slowly met his eyes. "Why? Why does it matter to you if I'm happy or not? I'm your wife and I'll be with you regardless of how I feel."

"You deserve to be happy. I like you happy, Sansa. When I think of my future, I've come to see you standing beside me," he said, gently stroking her face.

"What if the queen decides that she wants you back in her bed? What if you had to choose between us? Haven't you imagined her at your side your whole life?" She sounded so sad and so fearful, Jaime hugged her to him again.

"You are my wife. She had plenty of chances to walk away from the iron throne, to leave here so we could be together and she'd never do it. My love wasn't enough for her." He cupped her cheek, meeting her eyes. "What you told Cersei yesterday was true." Jaime noted her blush at the memory of her jealous outburst. "I am _your_ husband. Not hers. _You_ are in my bed. Not her. You mean the world to me. I know…I know what you want to hear from me and … give me some time." He saw the hope in her eyes before she rested her head on his shoulder again. "I've never been good at talking about my feelings but…know that you are very special to me. And I am…doing my best to show you how I feel."

Jaime held her tightly for a long time, murmuring sweet words to her and rubbing her back. "Will you do something for me, Sansa?"

"What?"

"If something happens…if I do something that upsets you, you have to tell me. I'm not very good at reading your mind," he teased, rubbing her back. "You may find it saves you some pain, if you just come to me instead of torturing yourself thinking that I'm feeling something I'm not."

She nodded, her hand resting on the back of his neck. "I'll talk to you. I will."

Sansa moved back into his arms, resting her head on his shoulder. Jaime could barely breathe when he felt Sansa softly kiss his neck. "Do you promise you won't leave me alone?" she murmured in his ear. "Everyone else I love has."

"I promise," he said, seriously. She hesitantly touched her lips to his. Jaime didn't hesitate to return her gentle kiss. "My beautiful wife," he murmured, gazing at her. She slowly worked the buttons on his tunic and pulled it over his head. Jaime leaned back, watching as she ran her hands over his chest. He loved watching her as she explored his body. She felt his gaze and looked up, a blush on her cheeks. "I'm yours," he whispered, rubbing his hand over her thigh. "Do you wish to go to our bed?" he murmured as she continued touching him.

She shook her head and Jaime pulled her against him. "How can I please you, then my lady?" he whispered.

She smiled shyly, resting her hands on his shoulders. "It would please me to spend this evening here, in your arms, as I am," she said, kissing him softly. "I feel safe with you, Jaime, when you hold me."

Jaime ran his hand over her hair as she rested her head against his chest. It still amazed him that such a kind, sweet girl loved him as much as Sansa did. He tilted her chin up and covered her lips with his own. He laid back on the sofa, with Sansa curled up on top of him, exchanging soft kisses and touches.

"Did you speak to Tyrion?" she asked quietly.

"Yes. My father, would like him to confess." She looked up at him in shock. "You saw what happened today. He can't win this trial. Not with the liars Cersei has brought forward." Jaime lifted his golden hand from her back, looking at it in anger. "If only I still had my sword hand, he could demand a trial by battle. I've tried on the practice field but…my left hand is still weak."

Sansa kissed his chest, her fingers dancing over a bruise on his arm. "Is that where you got all of these?" She tilted her head up, meeting his eyes. "Do you think I haven't noticed how battered your body is? You need to stop punishing yourself. It's not your fault Tyrion is in this trouble. And it's not your fault that you've lost your hand."

Sansa sat up and looked over his upper body, gently touching and kissing all of his bruises. Her mouth and her touches felt so good on his body. He was struck, yet again, that she was the only person to ever bring him such comfort. _She might like to hear that._ He reached out and gently cupped her cheek. "Sansa," he began as she looked up at him. "No one – not since my mother died when I was a small child – no one has ever comforted me as you do." He could see in her eyes that his words pleased her. "Come here," he said, beckoning her closer.

"Why do you want me closer?" she asked with a smile.

"I was just pondering how it is I've not managed to remove a stitch of your clothing yet."

She lowered her eyes, though the smile remained on her face. _She's still so innocent at heart._ Jaime reached for the laces at the side of her gown, loosening them a bit before sliding her gown from her shoulders, leaving her bare to the waist. "That's much better," he murmured, his eyes and hand roaming over her breasts.

He leaned forward, peppering gentle kisses over her neck and chest. Jaime playfully bit at her neck, causing her to gasp and he chuckled softly. "Didn't anyone ever tell you that when lions play...they sometimes bite?"

He could see the mischief in her eyes as she moved her mouth towards his ear. "Wolves have fangs as well," she whispered, nipping at his earlobe. He chuckled again and heard her giggle. He lowered his head to kiss and nip at her breasts, causing her to giggle and tangle her fingers in his hair. _She does make me so happy_, he thought, smiling and laughing with her as he continued his playful kisses and touches.

They were both far too distracted to notice the door to the solar opening, until Cersei's voice rang out. "You can't hide away from the family forever, Jaime, I need -"

Jaime released Sansa's nipple from his mouth, holding her against him as Cersei stopped suddenly at the sight of them. His sister locked eyes with him taking in something far more intimate than sex, but quickly recovered herself and turned on her heel, closing the door behind her. There was no mistaking the hurt and shock on Cersei's face at seeing them in such an intimate embrace – so happy and comfortable together.

Sansa met his eyes and he couldn't interpret what she was thinking. "Do you wish to comfort her?" she mumbled, trying to move away, though Jaime held her fast.

"Don't let her separate us. That's what she wants." He tucked her head under his chin, kissing the top of her head. "And I wish to spend tonight alone with my wife." She relaxed into his arms, and Jaime hoped that she was able to push his sister from her mind.

"Will you take me to our bed?" she whispered against his chest.

"Why do you want to go to our bed?" he asked teasingly.

She looked at him in annoyance. "Are you really going to make me say it?"

He chuckled as he sat up, helping her to her feet. "I suppose I'll have to figure out for myself what would pleasure you," he said wickedly, scooping her into his arms. "No matter how long it takes." Jaime found that he didn't think once that night of how hurt Cersei was, as his mind was focused on showing Sansa how much he cared for her.

...

_Let me know what you think. Next chapter: Lord Tywin speaks to Sansa about his expectations for her and Cersei seeks out Jaime…_


	18. Chapter 18

_Wow! Over 100 reviews! Thank you so much for all of the wonderful comments. I hope you all enjoy the next chapter._

_..._

Chapter 18

Jaime was on his way back from the practice yard when one of Cersei's handmaidens appeared from the shadows, with a request from the queen regent that he come to her chamber. That she needed to speak with him on a matter of great importance regarding their family. In truth, he had expected her to seek him out, after seeing him with Sansa the night before. Cersei was nothing if not a jealous woman. She despised the thought of anyone displacing her and he expected the fact that it was Sansa who had secured his affections was even more of a blow to his sister.

He didn't especially want to speak to her, but perhaps he could try once again to change her mind about this vendetta against Tyrion. When he entered her chamber, she stood at the window, watching. _She's waiting for me to cross the room, and come to her. As she always does._ Stubbornly, Jaime stayed where he was, at the door. "You wished to see me?"

She slowly walked toward him. "These past few weeks have been most difficult. Seeing you marry another and then…to see Joffrey die that way…I've lost the two most important people in my life." She trailed off as tears welled in her eyes, though Jaime was not so foolish as to believe they were genuine. "Seeing you with her last night, Jaime…it made me see what a fool I've been. I miss you."

As Cersei spoke, she had moved closer and closer to him, until she was close enough to touch. "I need you, Jaime," she murmured, leaning forward to kiss him, though Jaime moved away.

"Cersei, stop this. You're only doing this because you don't like Sansa having something you think is yours."

"You are mine," she said, sliding her gown off and standing before him naked. "And I'm yours, Jaime. It's always been that way. We've always belonged together." She moved towards him, pressing her body against his. "I've only ever felt complete with you inside me. And I know you feel the same. Take what's yours."

Jaime looked away from his beautiful, naked sister. "We don't belong together." He gasped as she reached for his breeches, unlacing him and reaching for his cock. He grabbed her wrist, stopping her.

"Don't tell me you have some misguided loyalty to your wife. You didn't want to marry her, father made you, just as he made me marry Robert. Just think how many times you had me while I was married to Robert. This is no different."

"This is different. You hated Robert. I don't hate Sansa. I- "

"You may be fond of her, I'll grant you. You always were overly sentimental. But, Jaime, you and I belong together." She rested her hands on his chest, pressing her breasts against him. "Father plans to marry me off again." _That's what she wants. Someone to keep father from forcing her to marry. "_I don't want anyone in my bed whose not you."

"And yet so many others seem to find themselves there," he said, removing himself from her grasp.

"Don't be jealous."

"I'm not jealous, I'm disgusted. Tell me, did you line the Kettleblacks up beside the bed to repay them for their testimony or was it more refined than that?"

He saw a glint of anger in her eye, but she pushed it aside and resumed her seductive gaze. "I'm seeking justice for our son, since you won't. A woman sometimes has to use her body to get what she wants. But, Jaime, it's you that I love. It's always been you. We're two halves of the same person."

"Then why is it only one of us got a whole life? You got to marry, have children, be exactly what you wished to be. You got all of it by taking away every bit of my life. I never wanted to join the Kingsguard and give up Casterly Rock, that was what you wished me to do. What you convinced me to do. Because you needed me to do your dirty work. So I gave up my birthright. For you."

"Not just for me. It was for us, for our future."

Jaime continued as if she had not even spoken. "I never got to be with the woman I loved, except in secret, because you would never give up the chance to put Joffrey on the iron throne. I never got to claim my children, because you insisted I keep my distance, and now they're nothing to me." Jaime picked up her gown, carelessly tossed on the floor, and covered her with it. "You only loved me when I was the perfect male version of you. When I would do exactly as you wished. You never cared about my happiness."

"That's not true."

"It is true. I never saw it before but…I do see the difference now. I know what it's like to be with a woman who actually cares for me. Who truly loves me and wants me to be happy. You never did. This madness between us, it's over. Think how many people have died, just so we could fuck one another. It's over."

He saw the moment she realized there would be no convincing him. And the anger took over her features. "I never thought I'd see the day you became a bitter cripple, Jaime. Our entire lives, I have done what needed to be done to secure our futures."

"Your future. Not mine. I didn't realize it, but you've always led me around by the cock, and I let you. I matter no more to you than the Mountain. I was only ever a weapon for you to use to get what you wanted."

"Go, spend your life with your little wolf girl. She'll be all you'll ever have. You will watch Tyrion lose his head and then you'll leave here forever."

Jaime bowed slightly as he turned to leave. "As you wish, my queen."

Jaime leaned against the door to Cersei's chamber and sighed. _She'll be in rare form at Tyrion's trial this afternoon. _Cersei never took rejection well. A part of him had expected her to try to lure him into bed after witnessing his intimacy with Sansa, but he had hoped she'd matured a bit since their youth. It seemed she had not. He remembered when they were children and one of her friends had kissed him. Cersei had flown into a rage. It seemed nothing had changed. _I can change. I have changed because of Sansa._

"It's beginning to look as if you may not be the only kingslayer in your family," a velvety voice purred from the shadows.

Jaime glanced in annoyance at Prince Oberyn Martell. "Made up your mind already, have you?"

"Allow me to walk with you, Jaime. There's a matter I would discuss with you before this trial proceeds further."

"I hope you aren't seeking admittance to my bedchamber again. I'm not keen on sharing Sansa with anyone."

The Prince smiled. "I don't blame you. I'd speak to you concerning justice."

"Justice? Is that what's going on in the throne room? I expect my sister has already paid for your vote, in her own way. Tell me, has she seduced you yet?"

He laughed. "No, but she has spoken of marriage. It seems all she requires is a head, somewhat large, a prominent scar across the face." _It's not enough she spreads her legs for the witnesses, but for the judges as well._

"Why do you come to me? I certainly don't intend to make a similar offer."

"More's the pity. Between you and I, I believe I'd rather have a basketful of scorpions in my bed than your sister in all her naked glory. Far less treacherous."

"Will you condemn my brother?"

"It's likely. Justice is in short supply this side of the mountains. There has been none for my sister or her children. Why should your brother fare any better?" _I should have known it would come to this. That he would use Tyrion's situation to learn the truth about his sister's murder._

"Is that the game we are playing? Fine. Ser Amory Lorch dragged Princess Rhaenys out from under her father's bed and stabbed her to death. I'm told justice was found in the form of him being eaten by a bear at Harrenhal." Jaime leaned against the wall. "It was Ser Gregor Clegane who smashed Prince Aegon's head against a wall and raped your sister Elia with the child's blood and brains still on his hands."

"And you were down in the throne room? Sitting on the Iron Throne with Aerys dead at your feet."

"Yes," Jaime said quietly. "I did not know…Had I known what they were doing to the Princess and her children, I would have stopped it. There was no reason for her to die. Whether you believe it or not, her death does haunt me. She was a kind woman. She did not deserve anything that happened to her. I am sorry that I wasn't able to protect her."

Oberyn nodded without expression. "Your brother told me that you would confirm his words as to who killed my sister and her children. I may be able to spare your brother – though you were not able to save my sister."

"You?" Jaime studied him. "You are one judge in three. How could you save him?"

"Not as his judge. As his champion. I know that were you physically able, you would serve as his champion, despite your…familial relationship to the late king. Since you cannot, perhaps I will." _What has Tyrion engineered now? _"I trust I'll see you at the trial this afternoon."

Jaime nodded, watching as the Prince turned and proceeded back into the main castle. _The Prince must know that it will give him the chance to kill the Mountain. To avenge his sister. He does not necessarily intend to help Tyrion. _Jaime shook his head, knowing that he should begin to think of another way to help his brother out of this mess.

...

Sansa sat at the desk in Jaime's solar, trying to write a letter to her mother. Jaime had promised that she could, but so far, she'd not written. She'd tried several times, but couldn't figure out what to write. _Should I say something about Robb, Bran, Rickon and Father? _Sansa wanted to tell her mother that she was married. _I wonder if she already knows I've married Jaime?_ If it weren't for the circumstances, she would want to tell her mother that she was in love and to ask her for advice about being a good wife and how to make her husband love her. But Sansa worried that her mother would hate her for loving and marrying a Lannister. So, she didn't know what to write. She couldn't think of a single appropriate thing to say to her own mother. She supposed that she could tell her mother that she was alive, and no longer suffering. That she was finally being treated well. She wondered if her mother was suffering.

She heard a hesitant knock on the door and called out for the person to enter. Sansa was surprised to see Podrick Payne standing in the doorway. He left the door open and walked towards Jaime's desk.

"If you're looking for my lord husband, he's on the practice fields."

Tyrion's squire looked absolutely terrified of her as he timidly approached and held out a letter. "This is for you, Lady Lannister, from my lord."

Sansa took the letter from him and smiled at the squire. "Thank you." He bowed before her and turned on his heel, returning to Tyrion, she imagined. She looked down at the letter curiously and broke the seal.

_My dear good-sister,_

_Jaime has told me of your generous offer, but I must agree with his refusal to allow you to endanger yourself. I will be eternally grateful to you for the thought. _

_Give Jaime a chance. He may not realize it, but he loves you. Don't let her win._

_Tyrion_

There was no need for him to say who the "her" was. Sansa wondered why Tyrion thought Jaime loved her. She thought about the past night, and how tightly Jaime held her, trying to comfort her. She hadn't meant to cry, but she felt so strongly for Jaime that she sometimes couldn't control her emotions. She had felt so secure in his arms. She believed that he wanted to make her happy, but she wasn't sure if he was able to. The way he spoke about love – his love for Cersei – she could see that he had some very wrong ideas about love. _Maybe he's right. Maybe he is too broken to love anyone._

Sansa knew it was weak of her to give in to her desire for Jaime so easily, but she believed him when he told her that he wasn't jealous of Cersei's new lover. That he didn't care who Cersei shared her bed with. Sansa wanted to give him a chance to prove that he wanted her. That he could make her happy. It felt so good to be in his arms, just kissing and touching him. It had meant a lot to her to hear that she was able to bring him comfort in a way that no one else had. He was the only person who had given her comfort since her father was killed. That was one thing that had made her love him – how gentle and caring he had been with her. She wanted to be special to Jaime and to bring him the same comfort he brought her.

She had been surprised last night by how playful he had been with her. He had seemed happy. Of course, Cersei had barged in right at that moment and seen them half naked, touching and kissing. She was secretly glad that Cersei had seen them together – that she saw that Jaime did care for her and enjoyed being with her. That he was physically attracted to her.

"I would speak to you for a moment, my dear." Lord Tywin's voice from the doorway startled her, and she quickly turned over Tyrion's letter so he would not see it.

"Of course, my Lord," she said politely, wondering why he would want to speak to her. The trial was supposed to resume this afternoon, so he surely had other things to do today. Yet he walked into Jaime's solar and sat opposite the desk. Sansa couldn't help feeling nervous, wondering what he could possibly wish to speak to her about.

"I expect Jaime has told you that I plan for King Tommen to accompany the two of you to Casterly Rock. That he will be Jaime's ward until he reaches the age of majority. He would benefit from Jaime's influence and, I think, from yours as well. My daughter is many things, but gentle is not one of them." Sansa wasn't sure if he expected her to comment on Cersei's qualities, but he continued on, so she supposed not. "Tommen's rule will ensure the legacy of House Lannister. It is most important that he be a good king. Loved and respected by his people. It will be your responsibility, and Jaime's, to ensure that Tommen becomes the man he needs to be."

Sansa nodded. "I would be honored for King Tommen to live with us. The – the queen regent does not seem to favor his grace accompanying us," she ventured.

"Cersei will do what is best for the realm. And you will as well, won't you?"

"Yes," she said quietly.

"There is one other matter I would like to discuss with you. Now that Jaime has resumed his role as heir to Casterly Rock, it is imperative that he produce children." _I should have known this was coming. It's the only reason he wanted Jaime to marry me. _"I had hoped to hear that you were with child by now. Jaime assures me that the both of you are doing all that is necessary to conceive an heir." Sansa looked down, feeling her face heat at the thought of Jaime discussing what happened in their bedchamber with his father. He looked at her expectantly.

"We are my lord," she managed. "I very much wish to give Jaime children."

"I know there has been a great deal of tragedy and excitement for the two months of your marriage. I expect that has contributed to why you have not announced that you are with child."

"I'm certain that is it, my lord," she murmured.

"Your mother birthed many children and I expect the same from you. The clear affection between you and my son should not make that a burden." Sansa was horrified to listen to Lord Tywin speak of she and Jaime enjoying one another in the bedchamber. "I look forward to more grandchildren. You'll not disappoint me, or Jaime, will you dear?"

She shook her head. "Of course not. I'm sure it will not be long before I have the honor of carrying Jaime's heir."

He watched her for a moment before rising from his chair. "I must prepare for this afternoon's trial. You and Jaime will of course attend, as members of Joffrey's family. I'll leave you to your solitude, my dear."

"Goodbye, my lord." Lord Tywin terrified her. After he left her, closing the door behind her, she thought about his words. She knew the only reason Lord Tywin married her to Jaime was for an heir. A Lannister child who would inherit Winterfell. Though, in truth, she'd given it little thought once she and Jaime had married. She was glad that he wasn't too angry with her for not yet being with child. She had only been married for a little over two moons. It wasn't that long. As Sansa thought about her last moon blood, she felt her stomach drop. Lord Tywin was right about everything that had happened since her marriage distracting her.

_Oh, gods. I've not bled for over two moons – not since before my wedding. I'm carrying Jaime's child. _

She wondered how she could be so stupid. She had not even thought about it, between Robb's death, Joffrey's wedding and murder, the trial, Tommen's coronation, and learning the truth about Jaime and Cersei. The thought of her being with child was so far from her mind, she had not even noticed the passage of time.

Sansa rested her hand lightly on her still flat stomach, as the realization that she was going to be a mother hit her. _There's a lion cub in my belly. What if it's another Joffrey?_ She was suddenly overcome with fear. She wondered what Jaime would think about her having his child. He didn't have much interest in his children with Cersei. He didn't even care when Joffrey died. _Though he was such a monster, who could blame Jaime for not caring?_ Jaime will want an heir, if nothing else. She wondered if Jaime would be more of a father to their children than he had been to Cersei's. I hope that he's as kind to our children as he is to me.

_I don't need to tell anyone, just yet. I can keep it to myself for a little while. Just until I get used to the idea. _Then she would tell Jaime that he was going to be a father. Again.

...

_Let me know what you think. We should get out of Kings Landing in a few more chapters, but in the next one: the conclusion of Tyrion's trial._


	19. Chapter 19

_Thanks for all of the wonderful reviews. I'm glad that you are all enjoying the story. In this chapter, Sansa will see and react to Jaime after learning that she's pregnant._

_..._

Chapter 19

When Jaime returned to his bedchamber to prepare to attend Tyrion's trial, Sansa was nowhere to be found. He wandered into his solar and saw her sitting at his desk, staring off into space. She didn't even notice his presence, she was so deep in thought. _I wonder what's weighing on her mind. _He stood in the doorway watching her, thinking about how much he wanted to have a life with her. Jaime decided he had gone far too long without having a life of his own. _Once this business with Tyrion's over, I'm taking Sansa far away from here. And I'll make sure no one ever hurts her again. _

Sansa must have felt his eyes on her because she turned and met his gaze. Her eyes lit up and she smiled softly. _She looks happy. _As he neared her, Sansa rose to her feet and threw herself into his arms, hugging him tightly. He tightened his arms around her, stroking her hair. "Are you all right?"

She nodded against him, kissing him once before resting her head on his shoulder again. "I'm just…I'm glad that you're back…that you're here with me."

"I haven't been gone long enough to miss. Did someone unpleasant come to visit and make you long for my return," he asked mischievously. _There's something wrong with her. She's definitely different. Not scared but…something's on her mind._

"Your father came to speak with me," she said, leading him by the hand into their bedchamber.

"What did he want?"

"He…He wanted to know when I would be with child."

He chuckled to himself. _Of course he did. My father never has been one to lose sight of his goals. _"I'm sorry you had to endure that. I can imagine how my proper little wife felt having such a discussion with Lord Tywin."

She smiled. "He…he told me that you had assured him that…"she trailed off, her face reddening.

"That we bring each other tremendous pleasure in bed? Quite frequently," he asked with a smirk.

She looked horrified. "You didn't say that to him, did you? I'll never be able to face him."

"No," he said, kissing her head, and turning from her to change clothes for the trial. She sat on the bed as Jaime stripped off his tunic. "I simply assured him that we were doing our duty to conceive an heir for House Lannister."

"Jaime…do you wish to have children with me? I know you need an heir, but do you _want_ a child with me? You already-"

"They aren't my children Sansa," he said, as he removed the rest of his clothes and moved to the washbasin. "They were never my children. They were always Robert's children. When Joffrey died, I didn't feel anything a father should feel. Maybe if I had held him when he was a baby..."

Jaime had been there when Joffrey was born, but he was there for Cersei, not the babe. And then, when he was born, and he and Cersei were left alone by all the women who had helped with the birth, she had refused to let him hold the child, insisting that he could not be seen fawning over Robert's children.

"You never held him?" Sansa's quiet voice interrupted his thoughts.

Jaime shook his head as he walked over to his wardrobe. "I've never held any of them. Cersei insisted. She said that it wouldn't due for me to show any interest in them. So I didn't." Jaime pulled on his clothes, noticing Sansa's silence. He walked over and sat beside her, taking her hand. "When we have children, I'll hold them and I will be their father. I will claim them as my own." He leaned over and kissed her. "We'll be a family."

She looked down at her lap, a smile growing on her face. "I miss having a family," she said quietly. She looked up at him. "I'd – I'd like for you to be my family. You and…any children we might have."

Jaime felt his heart react to her words. _Sansa's offering me everything I always wanted with Cersei._ He leaned over and kissed her. Sansa rested her hands on his neck, looking into his eyes with so much emotion and intensity that Jaime had to look away before he lost himself in his feelings for her.

"Are you ready for the rest of this ridiculous trial?" he asked, helping her to her feet.

She nodded, taking his arm. "Do you think there's any way Tyrion will be acquitted? I know he didn't do this," she murmured as they began walking toward the Throne Room. "Why does Cersei hate him so? He's her own brother."

Jaime glanced over at his little wife. _She had a loving family. The Starks are nothing like the Lannisters. I suppose it's difficult for her to imagine hating one of her own as Cersei hates Tyrion._ "She's always hated him. From the moment he was born and our mother died. She – and my father – have always blamed him for Lady Joanna's death."

"But you didn't," she said.

"No. He was just a baby. Then…she hated that he was a dwarf. That he wasn't perfect and beautiful like…"

"Like you and Cersei," she finished for him.

"And like you, as well, sweet girl," he said teasingly. "Yes. I expect…she thought it made her less perfect to have such a brother. An indignity she should not have to endure."

They reached the throne room and took their seats in the gallery and Jaime looked over at the Iron Throne, thinking about all of the blood that had been shed for it. He supposed he could have saved his father a lot of trouble by refusing to cede the throne when Eddard Stark arrived with his army and given the throne to his father all those years ago. _How is it that I don't desire that ugly chair a fraction as much as my father, my sister, and my brother do? All I've ever wanted was to go somewhere alone with the woman I love._ He looked over at Sansa, his beautiful sweet little wife. _I suppose she's given me a second chance to do just that. _

...

Sansa could barely concentrate on Tyrion's trial. Her head was spinning with thoughts of the child growing inside of her. She glanced at Jaime beside her, and found herself feeling even more tender feelings for him than she had before, now that he was to be the father of her child. She reached over and took his hand, holding it in her lap with both of her small hands. He glanced at her and smiled before turning his attention back to the trial. Sansa held his hand against her stomach, careful that he didn't notice what she was doing.

She had almost told Jaime that she was with child when he returned to their chamber, but she had resisted. _I don't want to have my child here, with Cersei and Lord Tywin circling about._ She worried that if he knew she carried his child, Jaime would not wish to travel until the babe was born. _I don't wish to stay here a moment longer than I have to._ Sansa hoped they would leave Kings Landing soon for Casterly Rock, so she could tell him there, in what was to be their home. She felt Jaime's hand tighten on hers, and turned her attention back to the trial.

Her old handmaiden, Shae, was testifying. Sansa couldn't be sure, because she wasn't paying attention, but she thought that she heard her say that Tyrion had forced her to be his whore. Sansa didn't believe it for a moment. Tyrion had never been violent. He had protected Sansa from Joffrey before – the first time he had her stripped and beaten.

"And when I cried, he said I ought to be more grateful, that it wasn't every girl who got to be the king's whore. That was when he told me how he meant to be king. He said that poor boy Joffrey would never know his bride the way he was knowing me." Shae started sobbing then.

"How would killing Joffrey make Tyrion king? It doesn't even make sense," Sansa whispered to Jaime. "She's lying, I know it."

"It doesn't need to make sense. They're determined to condemn him." She could hear the anger in Jaime's voice.

Shae continued her testimony, wiping away her tears. "He made me do such shameful things…"

Prince Oberyn looked curious. "What sorts of things?"

"_Unspeakable_ things. He used me every way there was and…he used to make me tell him how big he was. _My giant_, I had to call him, _my giant of Lannister."_

Jaime and Sansa looked around the hall as everyone began laughing with mirth, so loudly it almost shook the iron throne. She felt for Tyrion. She knew what it felt like to be humiliated before the entire court, with no one there to help. What it felt like for those who had been friendly to you to simply watch as you were abused. There were so many members of the court there who watched as Joffrey had her stripped and beaten. And they did nothing.

"MY LORDS!" Tyrion shouted. "Get this lying whore out of my sight," he said, "and I will give you your confession."

Sansa looked at Jaime in alarm. "What is he doing?" she whispered.

"I'm not certain."

"You admit you poisoned the king?" Lord Tywin asked.

"Nothing of the sort. Of Joffrey's death, I am innocent. I am guilty of a more monstrous crime." He took a step toward his father. "I was born. I lived. I am guilty of being a dwarf, I confess it."

"This is folly, Tyrion," declared Lord Tywin. "Speak to the matter at hand. You are not on trial for being a dwarf."

"That is where you're wrong. I have been on trial for being a dwarf my entire life." Sansa glanced over at Jaime who seemed saddened by Tyrion's words.

"Have you nothing to say in your defense?"

"Nothing but this: I did not do it. Yet now I wish I had. I am innocent, but I will get no justice here. You leave me no choice but to appeal to the gods. I demand trial by battle."

"Have you taken leave of your senses?" his father asked.

"No, I've found them. I demand a trial by battle!"

Sansa noticed that Cersei could not have possibly been more pleased, an evil smile overtaking her face. "Let the gods judge. Ser Gregor Clegane will stand for Joffrey. He returned to the city the night before last, to put his sword at my service."

Lord Tywin's face was incredibly dark, and he slammed his fist down on the table too angry to speak. Lord Tyrell turned to Tyrion and asked the question. "Do you have a champion to defend your innocence?"

"He does, my lord." Prince Oberyn of Dorne rose to his feet. "The dwarf has quite convinced me."

The uproar was deafening as Lord Tywin muttered that the battle would be on the morrow and strode from the throne room. Sansa could see that Jaime was distressed about the turn the trial had taken. She reached over and gently rubbed the back of his neck. "Let's go to our chamber," she whispered. "Away from here."

They were silent, walking back to the tower of the hand. "She's done it," he whispered to her. "She'll take his head and no one can stop her."

Sansa didn't answer him until they reached their chamber and she bolted the door as Jaime crossed to sit before the fireplace. "There's still the trial by battle, Jaime," she murmured as she walked towards him, settling on his lap. "Do you not think the Prince can overtake the Mountain? Ser Gregor is…beastly." Jaime didn't answer so she rested her heard on his shoulder. "Why would the Prince help Tyrion so? Why would he endanger his life for him?"

Jaime sighed. "To avenge his sister. When my father's forces took over the Red Keep, when the Mad King lay dead, my father sent Gregor Clegane and Amory Lorch to kill Prince Rhaeger's children – as threats to Robert's throne. They did it so brutally. It would have been easy enough to smother them with a pillow but…the little girl kicked Amory Lorch, so he beat and stabbed her. And the Mountain…after he killed Prince Aegon, the baby, he raped Princess Elia, with her child's blood still on his hands and killed her."

Sansa had nearly stopped breathing at the brutality that Jaime described. She felt him watching her. "I didn't know that's what they were doing. I would have stopped them, Sansa. I would have. The mad king, he had to be killed but the princess and her children…I should have saved them."

Jaime rested his head on her chest and she stroked his hair. "I know you would have saved them, if you could have," she whispered.

"It's been nearly twenty years, and the Prince looks at me as if I'm some sort of monster. I'll never stop being punished for that day."

Sansa held Jaime tighter, wishing to take away his pain. _I've been punishing him for his past. I hate that he fathered children with Cersei, but he never betrayed me._ Sansa realized that the only way she and Jaime could be happy together – the only way they could move forward - was if she forgot his past.

"Oberyn knew this would give him the opportunity to kill the Mountain. He doesn't care about helping Tyrion," Jaime said quietly.

"We'll have dinner alone together again tonight, Jaime. Just the two of us." She lifted his chin and kissed him. "I love you," she said quietly.

He seemed surprised at her words. She had not repeated them after learning the truth about he and Cersei. But, something had compelled her to say it. She wanted to tell the father of her child that she loved him. _I do love him. So much. _He didn't answer her. He just gazed into her eyes and she wished she could know what he was thinking.

"I don't deserve your love," he whispered, his eyes moving over her face.

"Yes, you do," she whispered back, softly kissing him again. "You've been so kind and so gentle with me. You have taken away my pain. I was here for so long. All alone. Waiting and waiting for someone to rescue me. You rescued me, Jaime." She kissed him again. "And I love you."

She could see that he wanted to return her words. _He's so scared to let himself love someone. _Sansa never knew that a man like Jaime could be afraid. She found herself hating Cersei all over again. _Jaime's my family now. Jaime and our baby. _

That evening, she and Jaime had another quiet dinner alone in his solar, though she could see that he was distracted. No doubt he was trying to think of a way to protect Tyrion. Sansa didn't mind. She was rather distracted herself. After dinner, they ended up curled up on the couch once again. "Did you write that letter to Lady Catelyn?"

She shook her head. "No…I couldn't think of anything to write," she said quietly, ashamed that she had nothing to say to her own mother. "Does she know that we're married?"

"I expect she does."

Sansa nodded. "Do you think…do you think she'll be angry with me? For marrying a Lannister?"

Jaime kissed the top of her head. "I think she will be grateful that her daughter is alive and well." _I hope he's right. I don't want my mother to hate me. But I don't regret a moment with Jaime. _He fell silent then and Sansa looked up at him. She could see the concern for his brother etched on his face.

"I know what you're feeling," she said hesitantly. "I remember when my father was held prisoner as a traitor. I was so afraid and I…I think you can protect Tyrion better than I could protect my father. Tyrion won't be killed."

"I'm not as certain as you are, Sansa."

"Will you do something to help him, if the Prince loses the battle?" she whispers.

Jaime smiled sadly. "Let us hope it doesn't come to that." She watched as Jaime looked down at his golden hand. He hid it well, but she knew that he still felt shame and anger over his disfigurement. And over his inability to be the swordsman that he once was.

She crawled over him, looking into his eyes. She kissed Jaime, softly at first. He tangled his hand in her hair, pulling her closer to him. _I love him so much_, she thought to herself. She touched her tongue against his lips and he immediately yielded, opening his mouth and allowing her entrance. She heard him moan low in the back of his throat as they kissed. "Make love to me," she murmured against his lips. _He may not be able to say that he loves me, but he can show me._

He reached for the laces on her gown and hesitated. "Is the door bolted this time?" he asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Yes," she said, swatting him playfully.

He smirked as he covered her lips, giving her a long, lingering kiss. "As you wish, my lady," he murmured, as her clothes fell away and he laid her back on the sofa, kneeling beside her. She watched as Jaime knelt beside her, kissing her mouth, her neck, her breasts and moving lower down her body, kissing her belly. She heard herself squeak as he kissed her belly button, his tongue swirling inside of it before kissing her stomach again. She reached down, running her hands over his hair, holding him over her belly. "Kiss me again," she whispered, hoping he wouldn't realize what she was doing. He looked at her strangely, but softly kissed her stomach again.

Sansa closed her eyes as he continued his path over her body, but the picture of Jaime kissing her belly, which held their unborn child, was one she would not soon forget. She felt so consumed with love for him that she didn't think there was room for anything else.

She turned her head as Jaime rose to remove his own clothes. She felt her stomach flutter as Jaime's tunic fell to the floor and she sat up and reached for the laces of his breeches, slowly unlacing him as he watched her. She had learned to see the desire in his eyes, and it was there now. After she unlaced him, Sansa slid his breeches off, sliding her hands over his hips and ass. She was still embarrassed sometimes at the sight of Jaime's naked body, but she leaned forward, kissing his stomach. She felt his hand tangle in her hair and had a good idea what he wanted. She gently cradled his cock in her hand, rubbing him the way he liked, and kissing him as he moaned. She kept her hand on him as her mouth moved up his body, kissing and licking until she was standing on her tiptoes and kissing his mouth.

Jaime lifted her into his arms and sat on the sofa as Sansa straddled his body. "I'm so lucky to be married to you," he murmured, his mouth closing over one of her nipples.

She threaded her fingers in his hair, sighing with pleasure. "I'm lucky to be married to you," she whispered back. "I love you, Jaime. I love you." He looked at her, pain in his eyes. "What's the matter?"

He held her tightly, burying his face against her neck. "You deserve a man who…" he trailed off, stroking her hair and holding her against him.

"You don't have to say it back. Just show me…show me how you feel about me."

He moved to look at her, resting his forehead against hers. She could see how much he loved her, even though something was stopping him from saying the words. Jaime carefully lowered her onto her back once more, hovering over her body. He kissed her – a long kiss filled with love. "My sweet, sweet girl," he murmured as he entered her, filling her completely. Jaime slowly made love to her, as Sansa clung to him, her heart filled with love for the man who had gave her a family again.

...

_Hope you enjoyed it! Next chapter: the Trial by Battle and a little Sansa/Tommen interaction_


	20. Chapter 20

_Thank you all again for the wonderful reviews, and for all of the follows and favorites. The next couple of chapters are little more plot-driven, but I need to get the story to a certain point…hope you enjoy it!_

_..._

Chapter 20

The trial by battle was to take place on the tournament grounds. The huge platform King Robert sat on during Eddard Stark's tournament was occupied by the royal family, save the boy king. That was where Jaime and Sansa sat with Lord Tywin and Ser Kevin. Cersei elected to stand down on the field beside Ser Gregor, with the Kettleblacks as her guards. It looked as though a thousand people had come to see if Tyrion would live or die. They lined the castle wallwalks and elbowed one another on the steps of keeps and towers. They watched from the stable doors, from windows and bridges, from balconies and roofs. And the yard was packed with them.

"Do you think that the Prince can beat the Mountain," Sansa whispered anxiously. Jaime could see that she wished to be anywhere but there, though she was determined to do her duty as a member of House Lannister and, secretly, to support Tyrion. _And me as well, I expect_. She seemed terrified, knowing she would see someone die a brutal death. But Lord Tywin had not given them any choice in their appearance. At least King Tommen was spared the spectacle.

"Ser Gregor is almost three times the size of Prince Oberyn." Jaime spoke quietly to Sansa, looking over the field. "He has been known to cut men in half with a single blow. His armor is so heavy that no lesser man could bear the weight, let alone move it. The gods will have to be on the Prince's side if he is to win."

"I saw the Mountain decapitate his horse in my father's tournament when he lost the joust," she said fearfully. "Then he tried to kill Ser Loras. The Hound had to stop him." He saw Sansa look over at the Prince as he entered the arena beside Tyrion and her eyes widened.

The Red Viper carried a spear, not a sword. He was lightly armored – only his shoulders, wrists, knees and throat were covered. Otherwise, he was clad in supple leather and flowing silks. He did not have a quarter of the protection of Clegane's heavy plate. With its visor removed, the prince's helm was effectively no better than a half-helm – his face almost completely exposed. He carried a round shield of red, white and yellow gold, as well as copper.

Jaime turned to his father and saw Lord Tywin glance briefly at his dwarf son. Then he lifted his hand, commencing the trial by battle.

There were fifty yards between Clegane and the Prince. The Red Viper advanced quickly, Ser Gregor more ominously. When the two men were ten yards apart, the Red Viper stopped and called out, "Have they told you who I am?"

"Some dead man," Clegane ground out.

"I am Oberyn Martell, a prince of Dorne," he said, shifting sideways. "Princess Elia was my sister."

"Who?" asked Clegane.

The Prince jabbed at him with his spear, but the point hit Clegane's shield. "Elia Martell, Princess of Dorne," the Red Viper hissed. "You raped her. You murdered her. You killed her children."

Sansa moved closer to Jaime in fear and he wrapped his arm around her. _This will not end well. The Red Viper is too consumed with revenge. His focus is not on the battle._ The men circled one another, as the Dornishman made jab after jab at the giant knight. _At least Clegane makes a large target_, Jaime thought. But the spear did not pierce the armor. They moved across the yard for a long time, round and round, Ser Gregor slashing at the air while the Prince's spear struck at arm, leg and twice at his temple.

Jaime's sword hand twitched and he silently cursed Vargo Hoat. If he still had his hand, this madness would be over. Cersei and Lord Tywin would despise him for it, but Jaime would not hesitate to stand as Tyrion's champion. Sansa clutched his arm and Jaime turned his attention back to the battle.

The Prince kept repeating the same words: "You raped her. You murdered her. You killed her children."

Finally, Prince Oberyn's spear flashed like lightening and found the gap in the heavy plate, just under the arm. The point punched through mail and boiled leather. Clegane gave a choked grunt as the Dornishman twisted the spear and yanked it free.

The Prince circled Clegane and the huge knight went down on one knee. The Prince plunged his spear in again, between the plates on thigh and calf. The sword went flying from the Mountain's hand and he rolled onto his back. Oberyn charged at the Mountain and drove the spear down with the whole weight of his body behind it. The crack of the shaft of the spear was echoed by Cersei's wail of fury.

Sansa gasped, clutching Jaime's arm in excitement. "He's done it. He's beaten him." Jaime glanced over at Tyrion and saw victory on his brother's face.

Clegane tried to get up but the spear had pierced the ground and pinned him to it. He tried to pull it out but could not as a pool of blood spread out beneath him. The Dornishman grabbed Clegane's sword and held it as if to drive it through the fallen knight when Clegane's hand shot out and grabbed the Prince behind the knee, pulling him on top of him. Jaime felt Sansa's nails digging into his arm as Clegane pulled the Prince close. He pulled Sansa to his chest, turning her head away as Clegane smashed the Prince's skull with his bare hands.

Jaime looked across the field and saw Tyrion on his knees, retching, as Lord Tywin spoke the words that condemned his son to death. Tyrion began to laugh hysterically as the gold cloaks dragged him down to the black cells. _The Prince was so close. Tyrion was so close to freedom._ Cersei met Jaime's eyes; the joy and triumph in hers was unmistakable.

Jaime turned his attention back to Sansa, tilting her chin up so he could see her eyes, and wiped the tears that had formed. "I'm getting you out of here," he whispered, taking her hand. She turned her head toward the field and Jaime stopped her before she saw the two men and their gruesome injuries. "Don't look, Sansa."

She nodded and clutched his arm. As they walked through the Red Keep, back towards the Tower of the Hand, King Tommen came running up to them and hugged Sansa around the waist. "I haven't seen you for days."

Sansa looked down at Tommen with a gentle smile on her lips as she ran her fingers over his short blonde curls. Jaime leaned over and whispered in her ear. "Are you all right here for a few minutes? There are some arrangements I need to make." He could see in her eyes that she knew the arrangements were for Tyrion.

"Please don't do anything dangerous," she whispered back.

"Don't worry, I'm very good at this sort of thing," he said with a smile. "Your grace, could I trouble you to keep my lady wife company for a few minutes?"

Tommen nodded and took her hand. "Come with me, Sansa, I want you to meet Ser Whiskers." She allowed the little king to lead her away, though she glanced back at Jaime, silently asking him to be careful.

Jaime sighed and walked off in search of Lord Varys. Once he found his way into the eunuch's chambers, Jaime awaited his return, sharpening his dagger on the stone walls with one hand, taking comfort from the _scrape-scrape-scrape_ of steel on stone. Varys entered in a cloud of powder and lavender. Jaime stepped out behind him, knocking him to the ground and shoved the knife up under his soft white chin, forcing his head up. "Why, Lord Varys," he said, pleasantly, "fancy meeting you here."

"Ser Jaime?" Varys panted. "You frightened me."

"I meant to," he said menacingly, pressing the dagger against the eunuch's neck, drawing a small trickle of blood. "I was thinking that you might help me pluck my brother from his cell before Ser Ilyn lops off his head. It is an ugly head, I grant you, but Tyrion only has the one."

"Yes…well…if you would…move your blade … yes, gently, as it please my lord, gently…" The eunuch touched his neck and gaped at the blood on his fingers. "I have always abhorred the sight of my own blood."

"You'll have a good deal more to abhor, unless you help me."

Varys struggled to a sitting position. "Your brother…if the Imp should vanish unaccountably from his cell, q-questions would be asked. I would f-fear for my life…Your sister is most determined to see him dead."

"If Tyrion dies, you will not long outlive him, I can promise you that."

The eunuch sucked the blood off his fingers. "You ask a dreadful thing…to lose the Imp who slew our lovely king. Or is it that you believe him innocent?"

"That is no concern of yours. Innocent or guilty," Jaime said, "a Lannister pays his debts." _I owe my brother a tremendous debt. And I do love him. Cersei will burst into a million pieces with her rage, but I will free him._

...

Sansa sat atop a large fur rug with Tommen as his kittens wrestled with one another between them. She had known that Jaime would help Tyrion – and she wanted him to – but she was afraid that he would endanger himself. _Please be careful, Jaime. I don't know what I'd do if you were taken from me_.

"Did you watch the battle?" Tommen asked quietly. "Mother wanted me to go but I was afraid. I don't like seeing blood…not like Joffrey did. She said I was acting like a baby, not a king. Grandfather said I didn't have to, though."

Sansa smiled, watching the boy curiously and wondering if the child growing inside her would be anything like Tommen. He had Jaime's green eyes and blonde hair, and his facial features favored Jaime. But the little boy's personality was nothing like the man Sansa had married. She couldn't help wondering if Jaime was this sweet as a young boy. And if he was, what had happened to change him.

"I didn't want to go to the battle either," she confessed to Tommen. "But Jaime…Jaime needed someone with him. It has not been easy for him to see his brother accused of treason and Jaime needed me by his side."

"Because you're his lady wife?"

"Yes. It makes it easier, sometimes, to do difficult things, if you have someone you love with you."

"And you love my Uncle Jaime?"

Sansa smiled. "I love him very much," she answered quietly.

"I'd like to be married," Tommen said suddenly.

Sansa tried not to laugh. "You're only eight years old, your grace. You have a long time before you will marry."

Tommen handed her a kitten and leaned his head against her, as he stroked the kitten's soft fur. "But Margaery said that she could be my queen. I do like her, and her ladies. They're nice to me and they play with me. She gave me these kittens."

Sansa understood now. Margaery wanted to be queen, but she didn't want to be Joffrey's queen. _I suppose I can't blame her for that. Especially after what I told her. _It didn't especially bother Sansa that the Tyrell's had killed Joffrey, only that they were letting Tyrion take the blame for it. Sansa didn't think that Cersei would allow Margaery to marry Tommen – he was just a little boy. Though Cersei seemed determined to turn him into Joffrey. _He is a sweet thing. I hope the child inside me is just as good-natured._

"Have you ever been to Casterly Rock?" she asked him, not sure if he had been told of Lord Tywin's plan to send him on as Jaime's ward.

"No. Mother's told me about it before. Well, she told Joffrey about it and I was listening. Mother always liked talking to Joffrey more than me and Myrcella. Do you and Uncle Jaime have to go?" _So, it seems he doesn't know he's to come with us._

"I'm afraid we do, sweetling. Jaime will be Lord of Casterly Rock one day, and Lord Tywin wants us to live there as soon as possible."

He nodded, sadness clear on his features, though he brightened as Margaery glided into the room. Sansa looked at her, not sure what to say. They had not spoken since before Joffrey died, when Margaery had instructed her to stay near Jaime for the entire wedding feast. Sansa watched as Margaery curtseyed before the little king.

"May I join the two of you, your grace? Sansa?"

"Of course," she said politely.

Margaery settled opposite her as Tommen continued to play with the kittens. Margaery picked one up and Sansa couldn't stop herself from speaking. "Did you attend the battle, Margaery? There were so many in attendance, I could not make you out."

Margaery regarded her carefully. "I was seated with my father. It seems the gods have spoken regarding my dear Joffrey's tragic death."

"It is very lucky that you did not happen to drink from the cup, once the poison was in it."

Margaery smiled knowingly. "Yes. Well, I've never been one for wine. It appears that is a blessing."

Sansa was about to say something when she heard footsteps and looked up to see Jaime walking towards them. _He'll be angry if he hears me even hint that Margaery is to blame for Joffrey's death._ She met her husband's eyes and could see that he had a good idea what she was up to.

"Thank you for keeping my lady wife company," he said to Tommen. He nodded to Margaery as he took Sansa's hand and helped her to her feet. "Shall we retire to our bedchamber, my love? There has been quite a lot of excitement today. I think we could both use some quiet."

"Of course," she said, taking Jaime's arm and saying her goodbyes.

"What have you been doing?" he whispered as they walked back toward the Tower of the Hand. _He's off plotting treason and he asks what I'm doing?_

"What have _you_ been doing?" she whispered back.

Jaime smirked. "Don't try to take on the Tyrell's. It's not necessary and it's not worth the risk. I won't let Cersei kill Tyrion. That's all you need to know. Sansa, if you wake tonight, and I'm not in our bed, close your eyes and wait for my return. Don't come looking for me. And don't ever tell anyone I was gone, all right?"

Sansa nodded, wide-eyed with fear as they entered their chamber and said a silent prayer to the seven to watch over her husband tonight.

...

_Let me know your thoughts. Next chapter: Tyrion's fate is decided….and a Jaime/Sansa conversation you all should like…._


	21. Chapter 21

_Again, it means so much to read the reviews and see how many of you are following and enjoying this story. Thanks so much!_

Chapter 21

Jaime struggled to both hold his torch and fit the keys into the heavy lock on the door to Tyrion's cell, with only one good hand. "Come on, are you frightened of a dwarf," he heard his brother call out, likely expecting that Cersei had sent someone to kill him. The door finally creaked open and Jaime entered, illuminating the room with the torch, watching as Tyrion shielded his eyes from the harsh light. "Just do it, you son of a poxy whore."

"Is that any way to speak about our lady mother?" Jaime looked around the horrid cell Cersei had thrown Tyrion in. "This is even more ghastly than my cell at Riverrun, though not quite so dank."

"Here for a visit," Tyrion asked curiously.

"You're to be beheaded on the morrow, out on the old tourney grounds."

Tyrion laughed. "Will there be food? You'll have to help me with my last words, Jaime. My wits have not been what they once were."

"You won't need last words. I've come to rescue you."

"Who said I required rescue?"

"Must you be so tiresome? Perhaps I should let Cersei cut your head off after all," Jaime said dryly.

"Oh no you won't." He waddled out of the cell. "Is it morning? I've lost all sense of time sitting here in the dark."

"Three hours past midnight. The castle is asleep." Jaime slid the torch back into its sconce, on the wall between the cells.

The corridor was so dark that Tyrion almost tripped over the guard, sprawled across the cold stone floor. "Is he dead?"

"Asleep. The others as well. Varys dosed their wine, but not enough to kill them. He is waiting back at the stairs, dressed up in a septon's robe. He'll take you to the river. A ship is waiting on Blackwater Bay to take you to the Free Cities. You will not lack for funds…but try not to be conspicuous. Cersei will send men after you. You might do well to take another name."

"Another name? And when her assassins come to kill me, I'll say, 'No, you have the wrong man, I'm a different dwarf with a hideous facial scar.'" The both of them laughed at the absurdity of it all. Jaime went to one knee and embraced his brother.

"Thank you, Brother," Tyrion said. "For my life."

"I don't believe that you killed Joffrey. And, I owed you a debt." _Jaime had not meant to say the words, but they tumbled from his mouth._

"A debt? I do not understand."

"You're not meant to."

"Tell me."

Jaime looked away, unable to look at his brother. He was scared. He was scared to tell him the truth, but it had remained a secret long enough. "Tysha," he said softly. "She was no whore. I never bought her for you. That was a lie that Father ordered me to tell. Tysha was … she was what she seemed to be. A crofter's daughter, chance met on the road."

"She was my wife," he croaked. "She wed me."

"Father said that all she wanted was the gold, which made her no different from a whore, so…so it would not be a lie, not truly, and…he said that you would learn from it and thank me later…"

"Thank you? He gave her a barracks full of his guards. He made me…watch."

"I never imagined that he would do that. He never told me. You must believe me." Jaime still remembered his horror when he found out what his father had done to Tyrion's young bride. Jaime had still been innocent to what his father was capable of when angry, and he had never imagined Lord Tywin's intent for the girl. From that day on, he had been too afraid to tell Tyrion the truth.

"Why should I believe you about anything, ever? She was my wife. She was only a girl, younger than Sansa. Imagine father doing that to your sweet wife."

Jaime didn't wish to imagine it. He knew he would fight to the death to save Sansa from such a fate. "Tyrion – "

He hit him. It was a slap, backhanded, but he put all his strength into it. Jaime was squatting, unbalanced. The blow sent him tumbling backward. "I suppose I earned that."

"Oh, you've earned more than that, Jaime. You and my sweet sister, and our loving father. It's a pity that I am as fond of your wife as I am or else you would know exactly how I feel. You would see done to Sansa exactly what was done to Tysha. But I'd never harm that poor girl. She's already had enough misfortune, the greatest of which is to love you."

Tyrion continued walking and came up against the locked gate. "I have the keys," Jaime said, standing and unlocking the gate before going through. "Aren't you coming?"

"Not with you. I can find Varys myself."

"Tyrion – "

His brother wheeled on him, the pain apparent in his eyes. "I thought you were different than the rest of them, Jaime. I thought you were my big brother who would always protect me from them. I thought you cared for me."

"I do."

"Then how could you? How could you let me live my life believing that no woman would ever love me unless I tossed her a gold dragon?"

"I'm sorry, Tyrion. I've wanted to tell you the truth for…forever but I've been a coward. I was afraid you would never forgive me and I couldn't bear to lose my brother." Jaime could see the hurt and anger in Tyrion's eyes, and wished that he could go back and undo the past.

"You're fortunate, Jaime. In the end, you're the one with the sweet little wife who loves you truly. And yet, you're too much of a fool to love her back. I would have given anything for a girl like Sansa to love me. And you and father took away my only chance. Tell me, brother, would you forgive the man who took Sansa from you?"

Jaime didn't respond, and they both knew the answer was no. Tyrion turned and left him there as Jaime watched. _I am a fool. No one's ever called me a coward, but that's exactly what I am. _

...

Jaime quietly entered his bedchamber and saw that Sansa was fast asleep. As he got closer to her, he saw that she had woken while he was gone and was now wearing one of his tunics. He carefully sat on the bed and watched her sleep. _She's all I have. The only person in the world who loves me._ He thought about Tyrion's words to him and felt ashamed. Ashamed of how he allowed his fear and hurt over Cersei's betrayal to keep him from returning Sansa's words of love. _I do love her. It may end up causing me pain in the end, she may end up breaking me as Cersei did, but I love her._

Jaime gently ran his hand over her hair and leaned over to kiss her forehead. He thought about that poor girl Tyrion had married. She was younger than Sansa. _I should have stood up to father – refused his demand that I lie to Tyrion. I've always been weak. _Jaime had always cowed to his father's wishes. And to Cersei's.

_I expect I'll lose her as well, _he thought, watching Sansa sleep. _She'll see the kind of man I am, and she'll find a way to leave me. _Jaime gently caressed her shoulder and Sansa opened her eyes. He saw her breath catch as she realized it was him. She took his hand in her own. "Jaime. I was so afraid when I woke up and you were gone. Are you all right," she asked, squeezing his hand. "Is Tyrion all right," she whispered.

"Tyrion won't be killed tomorrow," he whispered, looking down at their entwined hands, and feeling such pain over the loss of Tyrion and the thought of losing Sansa as well.

She reached up and touched his hair. "If Tyrion's safe, then what's the matter, Jaime? I see in your eyes something's wrong."

"I can't bear the thought of losing you… You are…the only person in the world who truly loves me." _Sansa is the only good, true thing in my life._ "I…" he looked down again and felt her tangle her fingers in his hair, before he looked up at her once again, "You're the only person I love who hasn't left me," he whispered.

He saw the surprise in her eyes at his words. "Do you really love me," she said slowly, as if asking the question would make the words disappear.

Jaime nodded. "I should have told you sooner. I should have realized that what I feel for you…is love, much sooner," he said, as she wrapped her arm around him. "You are everything to me, Sansa," he mumbled against her neck. "When I married you – I didn't even feel like a man anymore. You made me feel whole. I'd be lost without you." He stroked her hair, holding her tightly. Jaime thought about how broken and abandoned he was when found her being beaten by the Kingsguard. They had both needed kindness and comfort. "I dread the day that you'll leave me."

She looked at him with a teary smile and Jaime wiped away her tears. "You'll never have to be without me, Jaime. Why would you ever think I would leave you?"

"Tyrion…he…he hates me."

Sansa cuddled him to her. "You just saved his life. Why would he hate you?"

"I told him the truth about something that happened years ago…when we were still boys. I should have told him long ago, but I was scared." Jaime looked at her, his breath catching at her beauty. "There are other things I have done that…would make you hate me. That would make you wish to leave me and never look back." _If she knew that I pushed her little brother from that tower…she'd never look at me like this again._

"I don't care about the past, Jaime. I care about our future. I care about our…" She trailed off and he wondered what she was going to say. "I care about the life we will share together. I care about how you've treated me. The kindness you have shown me. That's all I care about."

"Sansa, you don't know…there are things I should tell you."

"No, there aren't. All that matters to me is our life together."

"Your family…the Lannisters are at war with them, and have done-"

"Stop," she said, resting her fingers on his lips. "You can't control what your family does." She looked at him and he couldn't tell what she was thinking about. "Will you…will you promise not to harm my family? That you won't take up arms against the Starks or the Tullys? I'd wouldn't wish to see you harm the little bit of family I have left. I understand if you won't but…"

_That's the least of what I owe her, after all that I've done. _"I promise you."

"Can we leave here soon?" He could hear the hope in her voice. _This place has brought her nothing but misery._

"Now that Tyrion's free, I will take you far away from here. Away from Cersei and my father. And we will have a life together."

Jaime pulled her onto his lap and held her, breathing against her neck and tangling his hand in her hair, trying to soothe his pain over losing his brother's love. He found comfort in just holding his sweet little wife in his arms.

"Say it again," she whispered. "Please."

She didn't have to say what it was she wanted to hear him say."I love you, Sansa."

She pulled back and met his eyes. "Again."

Jaime chuckled. "I love you," he said, kissing her. "Why are you crying," he asked, wiping her tears again.

"I never…I never thought I would hear you say that you love me," she whispered, looking down at her lap. _I'll make this up to her. I'll show her how much I treasure her._

"I'm sorry I've caused you pain," he said, kissing her softly. "I don't deserve a wife as sweet and loving as you."

"I love you, Jaime," she murmured, kissing him as he stretched out on the bed, still holding her and, curling his body around her. Jaime felt Sansa take his hand and pull it around her body, and threading her fingers through his.

"I love you, my sweet," he whispered, resting his head against hers. _Perhaps Tyrion will forgive me one day. I won't be such a fool with Sansa. I'm holding onto my little wife and never letting her go_, Jaime thought as he let sleep claim him.

...

Jaime and Sansa had not been asleep long before a horrifying scream rang out, waking them both. _Oh gods, what's happened now_, Sansa thought, clutching Jaime in fear. "Perhaps they've discovered Tyrion's gone," she whispered, not really believing it.

"I don't think so," he said gravely, moving from her grasp. She watched as Jaime pulled on his boots and moved toward the door. "Stay here. I'll come for you soon." Jaime moved toward the door, taking his sword. He hesitated for a moment before walking over and handing her a dagger. "Just in case."

She sat in their bed, listening to the urgent voices in the halls, though she couldn't make out what was being said. She didn't hear the sounds of sword-fighting. It didn't sound like the castle was under attack.

_He loves me_, she thought. Sansa rested her hand over her stomach and smiled to herself. _He actually loves me. We will be happy_, she decided. _As long as Jaime loves me, nothing can hurt us. _Sansa had decided that Jaime's past didn't matter to her. She knew he'd done terrible things. Things she didn't even know about. And she didn't want to know. So long as he would never again harm her family, Sansa didn't care what he had done in the past. She needed him.

She had wanted to tell Jaime that she carried his child, but she wanted them to leave Kings Landing first. She didn't want there to be any reason for them to stay and she feared Jaime would not wish her to travel in her condition.

As the minutes ticked by, Sansa could take it no longer and pulled on her clothes, venturing out into the hallway, cautiously. She saw many Lannister guards and gold cloaks surrounding Lord Tywin's door and Maester Pycelle wandering in from the Red Keep. She neared the door and glanced into Lord Tywin's bedchamber and gasped, covering her mouth in horror. Lord Tywin was sprawled on the bed naked, and blood covered the lower half of his body, flowing from the arrow of a crossbow lodged low in his stomach. It looked like a woman also lay dead and naked on the bed beside him.

Sansa had never seen so much blood. She felt faint and clutched the wall for support. "Lady Lannister, you should not see this," her handmaiden Pia said, appearing beside her, glancing at the Lannister guards.

"Lord Tywin's dead?"

"Yes, m'lady. You're now Lady of Casterly Rock…this is not a fit place for you. You don't look well."

Sansa couldn't look away from the blood and gore. The room began to spin and Sansa felt Pia grasp her arms and call out for help. The last thing she was aware of was Jaime taking her in his arms before everything went black.

_Next chapter: Cersei no longer has her father around to keep her scheming under control, or to keep she and Jaime apart…_


	22. Chapter 22

_As always, thank you for the comments and the favorites. It definitely helps me write faster :) _

Chapter 22

Jaime held Sansa in his arms, in the sitting area outside his father's bedchamber. Pycelle said it was the shock of seeing such a gruesome sight in Lord Tywin's bedchamber that had caused her to faint. Jaime could not deny that the scene in his father's chamber was rather gory – certainly something that would horrify a girl like Sansa. _Tyrion, how could you?_

Jaime had left Sansa to investigate the scream and found a horrified chamber maid staring at his father, dead in the privy, having been shot with a crossbow. Jaime had looked around the bedchamber and found the dead whore in his father's bed and the secret passage in the fireplace gaping open. He knew Tyrion was angry when he told him the truth about Tysha, but he could not have imagined that he was capable of murdering their father.

Jaime could scarce believe the horrifying scene in his father's bedchamber. As if it weren't shocking enough to find his father dead, Jaime wasn't sure what to make of the dead whore in his father's bed. He remembered how Lord Tywin had always berated Tyrion over his fondness for whores, so the idea that his father was sharing his bed with this whore – Tyrion's whore – was…unexpected to say the least.

Jaime had not been the only one alerted by the scream – several Lannister guards had also come running. Jaime had sent for Ser Kevan and the Kingsguard, as well as Grand Maester Pycelle and finally he sent someone to alert Cersei after Sansa had collapsed in his arms in shock.

Jaime felt Sansa stirring in his arms and gently stroked her face. "Are you all right, sweet girl," he whispered as Ser Kevan took a seat in the chair beside them, his face pale, having seen the bloody sight in Lord Tywin's bedchamber.

She nodded, sitting up, though she was still shaky. "Your father," she whispered, leaning against him and glancing back towards the door to Lord Tywin's chamber.

"I know," he said quietly, running his hand over her back. "I believe I told you to wait in our chamber," he said in a teasing voice.

"I was worried about you," she said quietly, looking at Ser Kevan in embarrassment.

Cersei entered the Tower of the Hand in a whirl of silks, with the Kettleblacks trailing behind her. Jaime had put off alerting her to the problem for as long as possible. Jaime and Sansa watched as she stormed into Lord Tywin's chamber. He heard her screeching questions at the guards before she joined Jaime, Sansa and Ser Kevan out in the sitting area. "How can you leave our father there…exposed like that?" she hissed. "Send for Pycelle."

"He's already come and gone," Jaime said.

"You sent for me last, didn't you? I am _the Queen_. I should have been called first." She glared at Sansa, no doubt angry that Sansa knew before she did. "Why is she here? She's only in the way. This is a family matter."

"Sansa _is_ family now," Jaime said with a hard tone.

"How could you leave our brother's whore in there with him? People will talk."

"It appears they will speak the truth," Jaime said dryly.

"He was clearly…questioning her further about Tyrion's plots against our family. To say otherwise is treason."

Jaime laughed, looking at the floor. "Yes. I've always found it best to strip witnesses naked before questioning them. It's certainly the best way to get to the truth."

Cersei looked as if she wanted to scream. "Get that whore out of here at once! And no one is to speak of her."

"Where should I take her my lady?" one of the gold cloaks asked.

"I don't care. Throw her in the river. She was never here, do you understand me?"

"Yes, your grace," he said dutifully.

Cersei stood with her back to them, breathing deeply, trying to regain some semblance of composure before she turned around in anger. "Why are you just sitting here? You should be looking for the killers," Cersei said, pulling Jaime to his feet.

"I can hardly climb down a 200 foot ladder with one hand," he ground out, holding his golden hand in her face. "I've sent the guards down into the secret passage, they'll report back. I know this is difficult for you, sister, but try to calm yourself."

She nodded, appearing to hear him. "We are his heirs, Jaime," she said suddenly. "It will be up to us to finish his work. You must take Father's place as Hand. You see that now, surely. Tommen will need you."

Cersei was clutching his arm in an attempt to convince him. Jaime glanced over her shoulder and saw the stricken look on Sansa's face. He wasn't sure if she was upset over Cersei clutching his arm or the prospect of staying in Kings Landing, should he become Hand of the King. "A Hand without a hand? A bad jape, sister. Don't ask me to rule," he said, moving from her grasp.

"Rule? I never said you would rule. _I_ shall rule until my son comes of age."

"I don't know who I pity more," he said. "Tommen, or the seven kingdoms."

She slapped him and the sound brought Sansa and Ser Kevan to their feet. "Your father lies in there dead," Ser Kevan said. "Have the decency to take your quarrel outside." Sansa moved to Jaime's side, gently touching his face where his sister slapped him and ignoring Cersei's glare.

"Forgive us, Uncle. My sister is sick with grief. She forgets herself." Cersei looked as if she wished to strike him again, but she managed to control herself.

Ser Meryn Trant approached them urgently. "The Imp…his cell's open, your grace…there's no sign of him anywhere…" Jaime wondered if his sister would know that he freed Tyrion.

"I gave orders," she hissed. "He was to be kept under guard, night and day…" Jaime watched as Cersei dragged Ser Meryn into their father's bedchamber and began shouting orders to send men into the walls to search for Tyrion. She'd clearly decided Jaime was useless, and had taken over.

"Are you all right?" Sansa whispered.

"I did this," he whispered back. "I killed my father. Tyrion may have released the crossbow bolt that slew him, but I released Tyrion."

…..

As soon as his Father's body had been removed from the Tower of the Hand and transferred to the Great Sept, Jaime had dressed in his Lannister armor and followed, standing vigil for the next three days – alone with his father amongst the candles and the sickly sweet smell of death.

He hated leaving Sansa alone for so long, but he'd left Ser Addam Marbrand to stand guard outside her chamber and to accompany her wherever she went. Ser Addam was a childhood friend and one of the few men he still trusted in the capitol. Jaime feared that Cersei would turn her rage on Sansa, now that his father had died, and there was no one to reign in her schemes.

His back ached from bearing the weight of his armor for three days and his legs felt almost numb. He shifted his stance a bit and tightened his fingers around the golden greatsword he held at the head of the marble slab that bore Lord Tywin's body. He could not wield a sword, but he could hold one. _I've become merely ornamental. _His missing hand was throbbing. Jaime almost found it funny. He had more feeling in the hand he'd lost than in the rest of the body that remained.

"I commanded the eunuch to take him to a ship, not to your bedchamber," he told the corpse. "The blood is on his hands as much as…as mine," he finished with a whisper.

It was strange, but he felt no grief. Only guilt. _Where are my tears? Where is my rage?_ He had always been guided by his emotions and Jaime Lannister had certainly never lacked for rage before. _Perhaps I lost that, along with my hand._ "Father," he told the corpse, "it was you who told me that tears were a mark of weakness in a man. I suppose you would not wish for me to cry for you at any rate."

He heard footsteps and looked up to see Cersei, dressed in roughspun wool, disguising the Queen she was, slowly walking towards him. She must want something particular to come here so late. In disguise. The last time she had come to him so dressed was the night she had convinced him to join the Kingsguard so he would never marry and they would never be parted. "What brings you here, sister?"

"I wanted to see father. And speak to you. I need your help, Jaime. Please. Be my Hand," she asked again, "and we'll rule the seven kingdoms together, like a king and his queen."

"You were Robert's queen, not mine. And you would never give it up to be with me. No matter how many times I asked."

"I would have, if I dared. We would have had nothing. We would have been exiled from Westeros. But, Jaime, now we can finally be together and our son – "

"Tommen is no son of mine, no more than Joffrey was." His voice was hard. "You made them Robert's too."

His sister flinched. "You swore that you would always love me. It is not loving to make me beg, Jaime."

"I cannot be your Hand, sister. I will not."

"I need you. I need my other half. You are me, and I am you. I need you with me. _In_ me. Please, Jaime. Please."

Jaime looked to make certain Lord Tywin was not rising from his slab in wrath, but his father lay still and cold. "My place is with Sansa. She is my wife."

"She does not have to be." Jaime looked at her sharply. "It was father who insisted that you marry her. We could find a way to have the marriage set aside. Then we could rule together, be together as we always wanted. No one would dare question us. Or, send her to the Rock, and you stay here with me." She walked towards him, resting her hand on his arm. "There's no Robert…no one to disapprove. You could share my bed every night, all night, Jaime. We can finally have what we've always wanted."

Jaime was afraid of this. Cersei had always feared their father, and he knew Lord Tywin's presence in Kings Landing had kept his sister's plotting and scheming under wraps. Now that his father was dead, there would be no controlling her. Jaime knew that he had to get Sansa out of the capitol and away from Cersei before his sister did something desperate.

"Cersei," he began gently. "I don't want my marriage to Sansa set aside. And I don't wish to send her away from me. I love her." Cersei looked as if he had struck her. "I belong with her."

"Do you honestly think she loves you? She would say or do anything to be free – to join the traitors that plot against us. She's telling you what you wish to hear and you are so desperate to be her hero – her brave knight - that you believe it. If you wish to help someone, help me."

Jaime shook his head. "She's not like you. She's not capable of that type of deceit."

"She certainly is a deceitful, selfish little thing. She hated that Joffrey didn't love her and cast her aside." He watched the malicious gleam form in Cersei's eyes. "I'm certain there are witnesses who would testify that she helped Tyrion in his plot to kill Joff, that she helped him escape."

"If you do anything of the sort," Jaime said, his voice filled with menace, "she'll demand a trial by battle, and I will stand for her. Even if it means I die for her. You will stay away from my wife, do you understand me?"

Cersei wiped her tears away on a ragged brown sleeve. "Very well. I was a fool to come. I was a fool ever to love you. I shall rule the realm myself. It's clear your manhood was cut off along with your hand and now your head is filled with songs of knights and maidens as if you were a child." She looked down at their father's body. "I'm the only true son he ever had. Not you. And certainly not Tyrion. Father would be disgusted to see your stupid little wife lead you around by the cock."

"Leave now, sister. You've said quite enough."

Jaime was relieved that he had put a guard on Sansa. First thing in the morning, he'd make sure she had additional guards. _She is Lady of the Rock. She should be guarded. _After his sister left, Jaime turned his attention back to standing vigil. Jaime looked around the sept, at the seven staring down at him. _I thought I was the warrior, and Cersei was the maiden. But in truth, she was the Stranger, hiding her true face from my gaze. _No more than a few minutes passed before he heard soft footsteps in the sept. Jaime looked up and met the gaze of his little wife.

"How did you get here? Did you come here alone?"

She shook her head. "No. Ser Addam brought me. And Ser Loras."

"I told Ser Addam to protect you. Bringing you here was not protecting you."

Sansa walked toward him, her nose wrinkling slightly at the smell of his father's body as she rested her hand on his arm. "I insisted he bring me here. You've been standing vigil for over three days. You need to sleep. Please come back to the castle with me."

"Someone must stand vigil."

Sansa reached up and gently touched his face. "That's why Ser Loras accompanied me. He will stand vigil and you will sleep."

"I can't –"

"Don't argue. Let me take care of you, Jaime. As you took care of me, when my brother Robb died." She spoke softly, her voice shaking with emotion, though he wasn't certain why.

"I have to stay here. It's my fault, he's dead. It's my fault."

"It is not your fault. You could not have known that Tyrion would do something like this. Come with me," she whispered, taking his hand. "Please, Jaime. Let me take care of you. I need to take care of you. I can't sleep, thinking of you here alone." Sansa raised herself up on her toes and kissed his cheek.

He looked in her eyes and saw how much she wanted him with her tonight and glanced up to see Ser Loras walking into the Sept and knew it was a losing battle. He silently passed the golden greatsword to Ser Loras and took Sansa's hand, noticing her silent thanks to the knight.

He glanced back at his father's corpse before allowing Sansa and Ser Addam to lead him back to the castle. Sansa walked close to him, her arm linked through his as she gently stroked his hand. _I have missed her_, Jaime thought, looking down at her. _I could certainly use a night with my sweet wife in my arms._

When Sansa entered a bedchamber within the Red Keep – not the tower of the Hand – he looked at her questioningly as he followed her inside, wondering where she was taking him. She bolted the door behind him and removed her cloak.

"You sister has had the city watch crawling through the walls of the Tower of the Hand. They've…they've almost taken it apart from the inside out. She insists Tyrion is hiding in the walls, waiting to kill Tommen and then kill her. Ser Kevan, thought it best to move our chamber."

"She's gone mad," he murmured quietly. Jaime knew that he should have been with his wife, rather than standing vigil. Now that he had rejected Cersei, and heard her plans for them to be together, he could not leave Sansa alone. His sister never knew when to give up on an idea, and he was certain that she would still attempt to separate he and Sansa, given the chance. He watched as Sansa removed her gown and crossed the room to him, wearing only her thin shift.

"She plans to burn the tower of the hand to the ground with wildfire," Sansa said quietly, her voice barely audible over the crackling fire. "To drive Tyrion out."

Jaime chuckled, lowering himself onto the bed. "She can't honestly think he's still in the tower, waiting to be found."

Sansa stood before him, looking him over. He leaned into her touch as she ran her fingers over his golden locks. "My handsome knight," she murmured, leaning forward and kissing him.

Jaime smirked at her. "Would you prefer I leave the armor on tonight, _Lady_ Sansa?"

She scowled at him. "No….I just…have not seen you in armor since…" she trailed off, blushing.

"Since I've showed you the pleasure our bodies can bring one another?" She avoided his gaze and climbed onto the bed, kneeling behind him. Jaime chuckled to himself, glancing over his shoulder. "As I recall, you rather like knights."

"I'd call you impertinent, _Ser Jaime_, but I've rather missed your teasing the past few days," she said, low in his ear. Sansa reached her arms around him and began loosening his armor. She helped him remove his armor and slowly peel off the layers of his clothes. She kissed him softly and rested her head on his shoulder, her chest pressed against his back. "Are you going to be Hand of the King?" she asked quietly.

Jaime turned and was startled to see the fear and sadness in her eyes. "No. You heard me tell Cersei that I would not."

Sansa looked down at her hands, nervously clasped together in her lap. "She…she asked you again tonight, though, didn't she? To be her hand and…her lover again," she whispered. Jaime saw a tear fall and tipped her chin up, forcing her to look at him.

"How do you know that?"

"I saw her leaving the sept before I came in to get you. She didn't see us…Ser Addam saw her first and concealed us. I'm right, aren't I? About what she wants?"

"Yes," he whispered. "She said we could rule as a king and his queen would." Sansa nodded to herself, clearly fighting the urge to cry. "And I told her that I love you," he said forcefully, covering her lips with his own. "Don't ever think I would walk away from you. _I love you_," he said seriously before kissing her again.

"I love you, too," she whispered. "We have to leave here, Jaime," she said, giving in to the urge to cry. "Your sister…I'm frightened. She won't stop until she's taken you from me. Until she's hurt me. You know we must leave here, don't you?"

Jaime pulled her onto his lap, cradling her in his arm. "You have nothing to be frightened of, my sweet girl. We will leave here. I promise you," he whispered. "Please don't cry…don't be scared," he murmured as he cuddled her in his arms. Sansa took his hand and gripped it with her small one as he held her until her tears stopped.

Once she calmed herself, Sansa rose from his lap and walked across the room, pouring herself some water. Jaime pulled off the rest of his clothes and got into the bed, watching her. She turned and faced him, a small smile on her face. "I'm sorry," she whispered. "I didn't mean be so emotional….or to doubt you. I just…you really wish to give up what you've wanted your whole life for me?"

"Very much. You are my life, now, Sansa. I've missed you these past few days. And nights," he said with a smirk.

She smiled. "I've missed you as well. I don't sleep well without your arms around me."

Jaime patted the bed beside him. "Will you hold me?" he asked her, somewhat embarrassed by how much he needed her. He had never been one for gentle touches, or cuddling. Though, perhaps that was because Cersei could never abide it. With Sansa, he craved holding her and feeling her fingers stroking over his head as much as he craved making love to her.

She nodded, walking towards him and climbing onto the bed. Jaime stopped her from lying down and pulled her shift over her head, wanted to feel her naked body against his. _Gods, she's so beautiful. _Jaime moved towards her and into her arms, resting his head on her chest as she lay against the pillows and stroked his hair. "I've been so worried about you, Jaime. I know you've been standing vigil for days without stopping to sleep or eat to punish yourself. It's not your fault your father was killed. Tyrion's responsible for himself."

"It is my fault. I freed him and… I should never have told him the truth."

She kissed him then. "Stop thinking about it. Don't torment yourself thinking what you could have done differently. It's done." She began stroking his hair again, lulling him to sleep.

"I never imagined my father would actually die. I always felt like he was…immortal. It didn't even look like him lying there dead. He seemed so much smaller, less fierce." Sansa just let him talk and softly caressed his body as he held her tightly. "You know you're the only thing keeping me together," he whispered, taking her hand and bringing it to his mouth. He felt her kiss the top of his head and curled his body even tighter around hers, taking comfort in the warmth of her skin against his.

"Get some sleep, my love," she whispered.

He closed his eyes and snuggled in against her breasts, exhaling deep and slow. They clung to one another, taking comfort from the feel of skin against skin. Jaime sighed, feeling Sansa's warmth around him as sleep claimed him.

_Next chapter: Tywin's funeral & Jaime and Sansa leave Kings Landing_


	23. Chapter 23

_I appreciate all of the comments and that all of you are continuing to read. There's going to be more of a diversion from the path of the book coming up (and I'm reaching where the novels have left off) and I hope you all enjoy the story!_

Chapter 23

Jaime entered the Sept to pay his last respects to his father with Sansa on his arm. As they moved closer to his body, Jaime saw that his father was rotting visibly. His face had taken on a greenish hue, and his eyes were deeply sunken, having the appearance of two black pits. Fissures had opened on his cheeks, and a foul white fluid was seeping through the joints of his armor to pool beneath his body. A stench persisted that made Jaime want to gag.

He heard Sansa gasp and saw that she was close to gagging herself from the smell as they knelt beside his body. Jaime reached out and plucked a rose from one of the bouquets that surrounded Lord Tywin's marble slab, and handed it to her. "Hold it to your nose," he whispered and she nodded, her eyes beginning to water, as they took their seats.

Red-eyed and pale, Cersei climbed the steps to kneel above their father, drawing Tommen down beside her. The boy recoiled at the sight of Lord Tywin, his eyes wide, but Cersei grabbed his wrist before he could pull away. "Pray," she whispered and Tommen tried. But he was only eight and Lord Tywin was a horror to behold.

Tommen took one desperate breath of air and then began to sob. "Stop that!" Cersei whispered harshly. The boy turned his head and doubled over, retching. His crown fell off and rolled across the marble floor. Cersei pulled away from him in disgust, releasing his arm and Tommen ran for the doors, as fast as his eight-year-old legs could carry him.

Jaime went after the little king, catching him in the entry way. "I'm sorry," Tommen wept. "Mother says a king must show the way, but the smell made me sick."

"Best we go outside, Your Grace." Jaime led the boy out to where the air was as fresh and clear as King's Landing ever got. He took the king off to the side, well away from the mourners, and sat him down upon the marble steps. "I wasn't scared," the boy insisted. "The smell made me sick. Didn't it make you sick? How could you bear it, Uncle?"

"A man can bear most anything," Jaime told his son. _I have smelled my own hand rotting, when Vargo Hoat made me wear it for a pendant_. _I have smelled a man roasting, as King Aerys cooked him in his own armor_. "The world is full of horrors, Tommen. You can fight them, or laugh at them, or look without seeing. You just have to…go away inside."

Tommen considered that. "I…I used to go away inside sometimes," he confessed, "when Joffy would…"

"_Joffrey_." Cersei stood over them, the wind whipping her skirts around her legs. "Your brother's name was Joffrey. And he would never have shamed me as you have."

"I never meant to. I wasn't frightened, Mother. It was only that your lord father smelled so bad…"

"Do you think he smelled any sweeter to me? I have a nose, too." She caught his ear and pulled him to his feet. "Lord Tyrell has a nose. Did you see him retching in the holy sept?" Jaime saw Sansa follow his sister onto the steps and Tommen reached for her hand, which only angered Cersei further. "Did you see Lady Sansa bawling like a baby?"

Jaime got to his feet. "Cersei, enough."

"Tommen is king. He cannot act like a child."

"He _is_ a child." Jaime glanced behind her and saw Mace Tyrell walking towards them. "Here comes Lord Tyrell. You don't wish to fight in front of him, do you?" That seemed to do the trick and Cersei pushed down her anger, accepting the Lord of Highgarden's condolences. Jaime thought it best to let the little king leave the Sept. "Tommen, will you escort my lady wife back to the Red Keep?"

Tommen nodded, wiping his eyes as Sansa ran her hand over his hair. She looked at Jaime questioningly. "I'll be along in a few minutes." Sansa looked at Cersei once more before taking Tommen's hand and leading the boy away, the Kingsguard, and Sansa's own guards following them closely. "What's this I hear that you plan to burn the tower of the hand to the ground?"

"Our Lord Father was murdered in that tower. I cannot bear to look at it. If the gods are good, the fire may smoke a few rats from the rubble."

Jaime rolled his eyes. "Tyrion, you mean."

"Him and Lord Varys and his goaler."

"If any of them were hiding in the tower, you would have found them. You've had men knocking through walls, and ripping up the floors. They've already uncovered half a hundred secret passages. He's not in there."

"I will burn it to the ground," she said coldly.

Jaime did not like what his sister had become, but he had to consider Sansa and what was best for her was for them to leave Kings Landing. "Sansa and I will leave for Casterly Rock as soon as possible and we'll take father's bones with us. To bury him with mother."

"Yes. He belongs with our lady mother, beneath the Rock," she said quietly.

"Father wished for Tommen to accompany us. He wished for Tommen to come to the Rock, and learn to be a Lannister."

Cersei's eyes flashed. "Absolutely not. He is my son."

"He would be safer in Casterly Rock than here."

"I will not allow _her_ to raise him. He's already far too fond of your little wife. It's bad enough she's taken you. I'll not allow her to take my son as well. So long as Tommen sits on the Iron Throne, the realm sees him as the true king. Hide him under the Rock and he becomes just another claimant to the throne, no different than Stannis."

"He doesn't belong here, Cersei."

"He is king. He belongs here." _I should have known she would never let him go. She wants his power – his throne. Now that he's king, Cersei will never let Tommen out of her grasp now._ "I'll be forced to agree to a betrothal between Tommen and the Tyrell girl but…it will be years before any marriage between them could be consummated. I can rip out all the Roses before that and have the marriage voided."

"For once, will you put your children ahead of your quest for power?"

"I believe you should begin to prepare for your journey," she hissed. "I'll burn the tower tomorrow night, and you'll leave the next morning."

_I never imagined that I would one day wish to be away from you_, Jaime thought as he walked away from his sister. He knew this was the right thing. Both for Sansa and for him as well.

...

Sansa sat in her bedchamber, looking out the window. She felt for sweet little Tommen. Cersei was so cruel to him – so determined to make into the cold monster Joffrey was. As they traveled back to the Red Keep, Tommen had curled up next to her and cried. Sansa had held him and comforted him. It had broken her heart when the little king looked at her in fear and made her promise not to tell his mother that he had cried.

She heard the door to the bedchamber open and turned to see Jaime walk in. He seemed so tired – though better than when she had all but dragged him from the Sept where he'd been standing vigil for days without any sleep.

"Is Tommen all right?" he asked quietly, sliding behind her in the window seat and holding her so her back rested against his chest.

"He cried almost the whole way here. And he was terrified that Cersei would find out."

Jaime sighed. "She's refusing to let him come with us to Casterly Rock."

Sansa wasn't surprised, though she was saddened by it. He was such a sweet little boy. She would have been happy to have him live with them; despite who his mother was, and despite the fact that he was the product of her husband's incest with his sister. "How can we just leave him with her?" Sansa asked sadly.

"She's his mother."

"And you're his –"

"If I were to claim him, my head would end up on a spike on the castle gates. You know that."

She nodded. "I know. I just hate the thought of abandoning him here, to all of these horrible people who don't care about his happiness."

"As do I," Jaime said. "But I'm not going to make you stay here one moment longer than necessary. Cersei's going to burn the tower of the hand tomorrow night and we'll leave the next morning."

_We can't leave here soon enough_, Sansa thought as she snuggled against Jaime and felt him nuzzle against her neck. She couldn't help feeling guilty for feeling so safe and happy in the arms of Jaime Lannister, while her mother was being held prisoner. Sansa hoped that her mother would understand; that she wouldn't be disappointed in her for loving her husband.

"I believe you'll enjoy Casterly Rock," Jaime said, interrupting her thoughts. "And I will very much enjoy beginning our life together." Sansa smiled to herself, thinking about the child growing inside of her as Jaime held her in his arms.

...

Lord Tywin Lannister had entered the city on a stallion, his crimson armor polished and gleaming, bright with gems and goldwork. He would leave it in a tall wagon draped with crimson banners, with six silent sisters riding attendance on his bones.

Jaime had decided that if he was going to travel with Sansa during times of war, he would take as many soldiers as possible to ensure her safety. Even if he had to do battle with his sister. Luckily, she had agreed. Jaime expected Cersei's agreement over the number of soldiers that he was taking, was because they were escorting Lord Tywin's bones back to Casterly Rock. She had said that a large army of soldiers would be necessary for a man of their father's importance. Cersei didn't seem to realize or care that Jaime was Lord of Casterly Rock – and that by rights, each and every Lannister soldier served him. Jaime had also insisted on taking Ser Addam Marbrand and Ser Ilyn Payne with him.

He watched warily as the queen regent approached him. He had misliked the gleam in her eye the night before when she had burned the Tower of the Hand to the ground. He had tried yet again to talk her out of it, but she was adamant.

"Let all of King's Landing see the flames. It will be a lesson to our enemies," she had insisted. He'd refrained from reminding her that King Aerys had said something similar.

The green light of the wildfire had bathed the face of the court as they watched the burning, so they looked like rotting corpses. Cersei had stood with one hand on her breast, her lips parted, her green eyes shining. Jaime had realized that she was crying, but whether it was from grief or ecstasy, he could not have said. The sight filled him with disquiet, reminding him of Aerys Targaryen and the way a fire would arouse him. Towards the end of his life, the Mad King had taken to brutally raping his queen after a burning.

Sansa had huddled against Jaime in fear, digging her nails into his arm at the sight of the green flames. No doubt she was afraid of the wildfire because of what she saw during the Battle of Blackwater, and Jaime had taken her back to their chamber, as Cersei stood, her arm linked through Osmund Kettleblack's, watching the flames well into the morning.

"Since you will not lift a finger to help me here in Kings Landing, Brother, I must command you to stop at Riverrun on your way home," Cersei ordered, interrupting his thoughts.

"Why would you have me go to Riverrun?"

"Brynden Tully still holds the castle. The Freys and our forces been in a standoff with him since the Red Wedding. End this idiocy and claim Riverrun in Tommen's name. Father made Emmon Frey Lord of Riverrun. He and Aunt Genna have waited long enough to claim their keep. You must intervene on their behalf."

"I can't do that, Cersei."

"Why not?"

"I promised Sansa that I would not to take up arms against her family again. I won't break my promise to her."

He saw her eyes flash. "You would disobey a direct order from your king?"

"Do you fancy yourself a king now, sister?"

He watched Cersei look over at Sansa with contempt. "Don't be so foolish as to allow a promise extracted in the heat of passion to cost us on the battlefield. I want the standoff to end, and Riverrun to fall to the crown. You _will_ do this before traveling to Casterly Rock. Unless you'd like to leave all of these soldiers here and travel alone with your little wife. I'm sure it's quite safe on the roads."

"I am Lord of the Rock. These are _my_ soldiers, sister, not yours. You do not command them."

"I hold the iron throne. I command anyone I choose."

As Jaime looked at his sister, he was astonished to see what this small taste of power had done to her. Robert had not been dead for long, and she was near Aerys Targaryan with her level of madness. He was glad to leave and to get Sansa away from her. _She will only get more and more erratic and paranoid._ Left with no other choice as he was unwilling to risk his wife's safety, Jaime reluctantly agreed to see what he could do about the situation in the Riverlands.

...

Sansa watched as her carriage was loaded and her guards took their places, and saw little Tommen running towards her as Margaery Tyrell followed behind. He almost knocked her to the ground with the force of his hug. "I don't want you to leave."

Sansa knelt down beside Tommen, wiping away the tears from his eyes. "I promise that you and I will see each other again. You will come to Casterly Rock once Jaime and I are settled. Until then, Margaery will look after you as I have."

She felt an overwhelming need to protect the little king from Cersei. She had never felt so protective of anyone. _Perhaps it's because I'm to be a mother soon?_

Sansa rose and moved to embrace Margaery and began to whisper in her ear. "You will protect him. If anything happens to him, I will hold you responsible. If you ever cannot protect him, if you ever leave here – you will bring him to me and Jaime." Sansa pulled back and smiled sweetly, not sure what had come over her. "Are we in agreement?"

Margaery nodded. "I understand perfectly. And I will do ask you've asked."

Sansa knelt down and hugged Tommen. "Goodbye, sweet boy," she whispered, before rising to climb into her carriage. Jaime was beside her and took her hand, helping her into the carriage. She didn't realize there were tears in her eyes until he reached in and wiped them away. "He'll be all right," he whispered to her before kissing her softly and closing the door. She watched as Jaime mounted his horse, as did her guards.

Sansa leaned back in her seat, resting her hand over her stomach. She was beginning to feel a slight roundness as the child inside of her began to grow. Soon we'll be in Casterly Rock and I will tell Jaime that we're going to have a child. Sansa looked out the windows of her carriage and smiled to herself as she looked at Cersei. _I'm finally free of her. _Then she looked down at Tommen, clinging to Margaery's hand as he fought tears. She hoped that one day Tommen would be free of his mother as well. Perhaps he could join them at Casterly Rock, and become a part of their family.

As her carriage began to roll forward and away from the capitol, Sansa felt calmer - as if she was finally free.

_Don't worry - we'll see Tommen again a ways down the road._

_Next Chapter: Jaime notices something different about his little wife as they travel to Riverrun._


	24. Chapter 24

_Here's the chapter a lot of you have been waiting for…I hope you enjoy it._

_..._

Chapter 24

By the third night of their journey, Jaime had realized that it was most advantageous to travel with his little wife. She had charmed the lords and ladies at every manor and castle they encountered. He had come to appreciate all of her courtesies – she was far better at that sort of thing than he ever would be; he did not have the patience. Sansa's sweet nature had secured them invitations to stay in the keeps, rather than in tents within the soldier's camp. Of course, they both had to be heavily guarded, since they were members of the royal family and it was a time of war. Though, with the 20,000 soldiers Jaime commanded, there was no danger of being overtaken on the road.

Jaime nodded to the red cloaks standing guard outside the guest chamber he was to share with Sansa as he entered, bolting the door behind him. He saw candlelight glowing from the marble bath attached to the bedchamber. He smiled as he stood in the doorway, looking at Sansa, lying in the steaming bath, with her hair piled on top of her head. _She's so beautiful_, Jaime thought as he watched the steam rise from her exposed shoulders_. _Her eyes were closed and she looked so peaceful. He had never before seen her so calm in the months since they had married. _I was right to take her from Kings Landing_.

Jaime silently walked towards the bath, running his hand over Sansa's shoulders when he approached her. She leaned her head back and opened her eyes and smiled, a slight blush appearing on her cheeks, as he looked over her nude body in the water. He leaned over, covering her mouth with his own. "Do you mind if I join you?"

Sansa shook her head and sat up waiting for him to undress and sink into the water behind her. Jaime dropped his clothes onto the floor and removed his golden hand before he settled behind her in the bath. She leaned back against his chest and Jaime began kissing her neck and shoulder as his hand roamed over her breasts. "This is nice," he mumbled against her skin between kisses. "I've enjoyed being alone with you these past few days."

She laughed, grabbing his wandering hand in her own. "We're not alone. We're traveling with 20,000 of your soldiers."

He pulled his hand from hers and stubbornly resumed his exploration of her body. "I'm glad we've left Kings Landing, then. No matter how many are with us." He pressed his chest against her back. "It feels so good to hold you in my arms, like this." He kissed her shoulder again. "To see you so peaceful and relaxed."

She turned to face him, straddling him in the tub and wrapping her arms around his neck. "I'm glad we've left the capitol," she said softly, kissing him, before hugging him to her, resting her head on his shoulder. "I never thought I would leave there. After so many months of waiting and waiting for someone to come for me. For someone to take me away from there...and save me." She gently ran her hand over his hair. "There were times…before you returned to the capitol…when I was certain that I would die there." Jaime hated to hear her talk that way. A girl as young as Sansa should not have been waiting for her own death. He remembered the broken, helpless girl he'd found when he returned to Kings Landing. Not that he was any less broken himself that night. "I can never repay you for saving me," she whispered.

Jaime couldn't help thinking that she had saved him as well. "You never have to repay me for anything, sweet girl."

She moved her head from his shoulder and kissed him. She moved back and he saw her eyes focus on the bruises on his arms and chest. He could see the displeasure on her face. Jaime had brought Ser Ilyn Payne with him solely to serve as his practice partner. Jaime was determined to make his left hand just as strong with a sword as his right hand had been.

While they were still at the Red Keep, Jaime had gone to the practice yards early in the morning, before the other knights awoke, and tried to strengthen his hand using practice dummies. There was only so much he could do without a live opponent to fight. He had chosen Ser Ilyn due to his lack of a tongue – which assured him that no one would know how inept a swordsman Jaime had become. It had proven a most humiliating exercise regardless as Jaime was badly beaten for the past three nights of their journey, leaving bruises everywhere.

He had seen the fear in Sansa's eyes when she saw that Ser Ilyn was traveling with them. Jaime had made a point of telling the king's justice to keep his distance from his wife, but he knew she was still uneasy with his presence.

"You know I hate seeing these bruises on you." She reached for the washcloth and gently scrubbed his arms and chest.

"You've left a mark or two on me before," he said with a smirk, causing her to blush, as he moved his mouth towards the side of her neck. "And I do enjoy marking you myself…so there's no mistaking who you belong to."

She pushed him away playfully before continuing to wash him, wetting his hair and gently washing his injuries. "I hate having him here. And I hate that he's hurting you."

Jaime smiled sadly, wrapping an arm around her waist, and holding her against him. "This is the only way for me to have any hope of swinging a sword again." He couldn't bring himself to tell Sansa how amused Ser Ilyn had been when Jaime expressed his desire to make his left hand as good as his right. The old knight had made a strange hissing sound that he had finally realized was laughter. Jaime had felt such shame and despair in that moment. But he refused to give up, even if it meant his entire body would be covered in cuts and bruises.

Jaime had avoided telling Sansa that they would travel to Riverrun, and very likely to the Twins, to deal with her family's continued struggle against the crown. He was still angry that Cersei had extracted such an agreement from him and had cowardly avoided telling his wife, for fear of upsetting her. But they were less than two days away, and he had to tell her. "Before we go on to Casterly Rock, we will be stopping at Riverrun." He could see the question in her eyes. "Your uncle Brynden continues to hold the castle and there has been a standoff for many months. I need to end it."

She looked down, focusing on one of the bruises on his chest. "Will you see my mother?"

"I expect that we will stop at the Twins on our way to Casterly Rock. I may need to settle matters between Walder Frey and the Crown." She didn't respond, continuing to stare down at his chest. He sighed, running his hand over her back. "If you wish to proceed on to Casterly Rock without me…I would understand. I can send a thousand men with you – you'd be perfectly safe."

He could see that she was torn, but finally raised her eyes to his. "I don't wish to leave you, Jaime."

"I see that you're upset."

"I'm…I'm scared."

"You have no reason to ever be scared," he murmured in her ear. "My wife should never be scared." She smiled faintly. "I want to prepare you. You should know that…I may have to do things that you won't like in order to end the fighting in the Riverlands."

"What do you mean?"

"I don't intend to break my promise to you. I won't harm your family but…I will have to be firm with them. I may have to call their bluff. I don't…I will have to show your uncles that I'm the same man I was before I lost my hand. I'm not, of course," he said sadly. "But…they need to believe that I am. I can't show weakness. Do you understand?"

She nodded her small hands resting on his chest, and her eyes falling again. "You won't hurt them, though, will you?"

Jaime tilted her chin up to meet her eyes. "I made a promise to you. I won't break it." She nodded, resting her head in the crook of his shoulder, her fingers lightly tracing over his chest. Jaime ran his hand over her back, and down to her hip. He felt her mouth softly kissing his neck. "And you've convinced me that I should take my wife to bed, now," Jaime said with a smirk.

Sansa rose from the water first and Jaime leaned back to watch the water roll off of her as she stood over him, feeling his cock harden at the sight of her naked body. She looked at him as he ran his hand along her leg and up over her hip. He could see that she was a tad embarrassed at his open appraisal. Jaime found it rather endearing that she would still blush when he spoke of sexual matters or gazed at her with lust in his eyes. Sansa took his hand as she stepped out of the tub, and watched him through lidded eyes as she dried her body. "Why do you watch me so," she asked quietly.

Jaime exited the bath himself, crossing the room towards her. "Because, you are so, so beautiful. And because you, my sweet, are all mine."

She moved towards him, wrapping a towel around his body and slowly drying him off as his hand wandered over her body, his arm with the stump against her lower back, holding her against him. She giggled as Jaime began kissing her neck and removed the towel she had wrapped around her own body, dropping it to the floor. "Jaime," she protested as he took her into his arms and carried her to the bed.

"The door's locked," he said with a wicked smile. "And I expect our hosts anticipated that I would take advantage of their hospitality to bed my beautiful Lady of Casterly Rock. I'd hate to seem ungrateful," he whispered in her ear as he sat on the bed, holding Sansa in his lap. Jaime reached up and pulled the pins from her hair, watching as her dark red locks tumbled past her shoulders.

Jaime began kissing her throat and slowly moved down to kiss her breasts as he slid his hand to her bottom. She arched her back, moving her breasts toward him and Jaime kissed and licked her soft, freshly washed skin. Jaime loved listening to her little sighs and chirps of pleasure as he began to suckle on her nipples. "You like that, don't you," he mumbled against her breast.

Sansa smiled and pushed him onto his back as Jaime devoured her with his eyes. He couldn't help noticing that her figure seemed more…womanly. He cupped one of her breasts absently and could swear it was a bit swollen. Jaime slid his hand down to her stomach, noting a definite roundness that had never been there before. Jaime looked up and met her eyes – noting the sheepish expression on her face – and he knew. _My little wife has a baby in her belly. _Sansa made as if to move off of him, but Jaime held her there, gently running his hand over her belly again.

"Are you carrying our child?" he whispered. She nodded, biting her lip nervously. If Jaime didn't know that he loved her before, he knew it in that moment. "How long have you known?" he murmured as he continued to move his hand over her, feeling the slight roundness of her belly.

"Not long. I – I wanted to wait to tell you…until we were at Casterly Rock. I was afraid you'd make me stay in King's Landing. I didn't want…I didn't want our baby to be born there." _Our baby. "_You won't send me back, will you?"

He felt such a strong urge to protect her, more than he had ever felt for anyone_. The mother of my child. My child. _He sat up, holding her in his lap and kissing her. "I'm not letting you out of my sight. Not you, or our little lion cub," he said with a smile.

She smiled back, cupping his cheek with her hand. "Are you happy?" He could swear he saw fear in her eyes as she asked.

He nodded, unable to express to her what he was feeling, and was glad that the fear immediately disappeared. _Sansa really is my second chance at having a life. I can actually be a father to this child. Love this child._

"I'm glad you know, Jaime. I've been wanting to thank you."

"Thank me for what?"

"For making me part of a family again." She rested her hand over her softly rounded stomach. "We are a family, now." He covered her hand with his own.

"Yes, we are, my sweet," he said, kissing her. _I'm going to hold this baby,_ he thought. _I'm going to love this baby. _"We are a family, Sansa. You and me and … a little boy who can learn to swing a sword…or a little girl to cuddle and spoil." He smiled to himself, thinking of a tiny Sansa look-alike sitting on his knee.

Jaime lay back on the bed and Sansa settled next to him, her leg draped over his body and her head resting on his chest. Jaime knew he didn't deserve it, but he was grateful for the chance to have a life – and a family – with his sweet Sansa. When he'd agreed to marry her, Jaime had thought that she was his chance to show that he had honor, his chance to protect an innocent, but the girl in his arms had come to mean so much more to him. _She's truly mine_. He felt her kiss his chest as she snuggled against him. "You are going to be a wonderful mother," he said quietly, holding her in his arms.

"Do you think so?"

"I do. I don't remember much of my own mother…she died when I was only four but…I remember her smile and I remember her soft voice. I remember that was very gentle, very kind and affectionate. You're all of those things, Sansa. I can't think of a better mother for my children." He kissed the top of her head. Jaime wrapped his arms around her, holding her tightly.

"When do you think we'll reach Casterly Rock," she asked in a quiet voice, her hand resting on his chest.

"I don't know for certain. We should reach Riverrun in a day or so."

"How long will we be there?"

"I hope for only a few days at the most. Though, I'm not sure what we'll find there. Then…we'll likely travel to the Twins."

"Will you let me see my mother?" she asked hesitantly.

Jaime sighed. Despite what he'd said to reassure Sansa, he was concerned about how Lady Catelyn would greet her daughter when she arrived in the Riverlands as Lady of Casterly Rock and the Kingslayer's wife. Jaime had gone out of his way to shield Sansa from the details of the Red Wedding, and had threatened anyone who would dare to enlighten her – but he certainly knew the details. He had to think that Lady Catelyn would still be feeling the effects of watching the brutal death of her son, and the other lords of the North.

"I can try to arrange it with the Freys," Jaime said slowly. "Sansa, I don't want you to be surprised…she may still be grieving for your brother and –"

"So you _do_ think she hates me?"

"I don't believe that a mother could ever hate her child. But, Sansa, I worry that it's very soon after your brother's death and I don't want you to be disappointed or hurt by how she receives you."

She nodded, thinking about Jaime's words. "Would you come with me?" she asked in a small, scared voice.

"Of course. I'll always be beside you."

Sansa moved to rest her upper body on top of his, her fingers brushing his hair out of his face. "I love you," she murmured, kissing him, softly at first.

Jaime kissed her back. "I love you, as well," he murmured against her lips as he continued kissing her. He slowly rolled her onto her back, continuing to kiss Sansa as she wrapped her arms around his neck. "I love you," he whispered, between kisses. "So much."

He smiled as he heard a little squeak of disappointment as he moved from her lips, kissing her cheek, then her neck, then between her breasts, moving down to her stomach. "I love you," he murmured, kissing her stomach once more as she reached out to card her fingers through his hair. Jaime moved over her again to claim her lips, smiling as she wrapped her arms around his neck once more. Sansa wrapped her legs allowed his waist, pressing against his arousal. Jaime slowly entered her, trying to be gentle, watching her arch her back off the bed. He moved back onto his heels, pulling her on his lap, and kissed and suckled her breasts. _I love her so much._

He let Sansa push him onto his back and felt her roll her hips as he thrust into her. He rested his hand on her waist and his eyes took in her slightly swollen breasts and her rounded belly. Now that his seed had taken root in her, Jaime knew that he would never let her go. He was close to peaking, and slid his fingers to her pleasure spot, softly stroking her until she began to contract around him and moan his name. Jaime came with a low moan, his eyes never leaving hers. As she sat on top of him, the both of them waiting for their breathing to return to normal, Jaime couldn't help noticing that she looked to be almost glowing with happiness, a light sheen of sweat covering her body from their lovemaking. Jaime gestured for her to move into his arms and she lay next to him, her head resting on his chest as he ran his hand over her hair.

She raised her head to kiss him goodnight before resting her head back on his chest. "I love you, Sansa. The mother of my child." He whispered the last words quietly, more to himself than anything else. He held her tighter as she repeated his words of love and snuggled against him. _My whole world is right here in this bed. Right here in my arms._ Jaime couldn't help thinking that he was meant to marry his sweet Sansa. That he was meant to father children with her. Jaime had no doubt that the love of his life was curled up in his arms. And he wouldn't allow anything or anyone to separate them.

...

_I hope you guys liked it. Let me know what you think._

_Next up: Jaime & Sansa arrive at Riverrun._


	25. Chapter 25

_Thank you all so much for the wonderful reviews! I'm glad that you're enjoying the story, and the relationship between Jaime and Sansa. The encouragement is very much appreciated!_

...

Chapter 25

Sansa had walked around the camp of Lannister Soldiers with her handmaiden before retiring to the pavilion she was to share with Jaime. They had traveled deep into the Riverlands and Jaime expected to reach Riverrun the following day. Sansa was able to pass the traveling time rather peacefully. She'd taken to letting out the seams in her gowns, to conceal her small belly, and stitching blankets and clothes for the baby. But it still wore on her to be in a carriage for so long each and every day.

She had thought she would be frightened to be surrounded by so many Lannister soldiers, but they treated her as if she were queen, stopping what they were doing as she passed and standing at attention, nodding to her respectfully. It was nothing like when she was Cersei's prisoner in Kings Landing and the red cloaks had been the enemy. Sansa had to remind herself that Jaime was Lord of Casterly Rock and Warden of the West. And she was his wife. These soldiers were now sworn to protect her with their lives as well.

Sansa heard voices as she neared the pavilion. Pia, as well as Jaime's squire, Peck, were following her, carrying spiced wine and rabbit for dinner. When Sansa peeked inside, she saw that Jaime was sitting at the small table with a tall blonde man who had the appearance of a knight. He was very handsome and Sansa was certain that he must be a Lannister. It was likely his cousin who had been made Warden of the East following the Red Wedding. Both men rose to their feet when Sansa entered the tent.

"Sansa, there's someone I'd like you to meet," Jaime said as she entered the tent. He rested his hand on her back as she stood beside him. "My cousin, Ser Devan Lannister, Warden of the East. Cousin, my beautiful bride, Lady Sansa Lannister."

Ser Devan kissed her hand, his eyes moving to Jaime. "I see now why you would ask to be released from your vows to the king. It's a pleasure to meet you, my lady. You are a most welcome addition to our family."

"Thank you, Ser Devan," she said quietly. "I'm very pleased to meet you as well. Jaime speaks very highly of you."

"Will you join us for dinner?" Jaime asked his cousin.

"Thank you, but no. I must return to my men. Enjoy the company of your lovely wife. We'll ride in the morning?"

Jaime nodded, patting his cousin on the back as he left. "How are you?" he asked Sansa, kissing her softly and resting his hand over her stomach. "Both of you," he whispered in her ear.

She smiled covering his hand with her own. "All is well. What…what did Ser Devan have to say?" She knew that Ser Devan was in charge of the standoff in the Riverlands for the Lannisters, and that he must have brought news from Riverrun. Sansa wasn't especially anxious to enter a battlefield on the morrow. Nor did she want Jaime to enter there either.

"Sit down, Sansa, we'll talk over dinner," Jaime said, pulling out her chair while Pia set up their dinner. Jaime dismissed everyone, insisting that he and Sansa would like to be alone for the rest of the night, before settling himself opposite her at the table.

Sansa nervously picked at her rabbit and looked at him expectantly. "What news from Riverrun?"

"Devan's rather annoyed with the Freys and the state of the siege. Your mother's Uncle Brynden sits inside the castle. Have you ever met the Blackfish?"

"I've heard a lot about him but we've never met."

"Yes, well…he's an excellent swordsman. Not that he's been using that skill of late. He sits inside Riverrun – along with your brother's widow and her family - and Lannister and Frey soldiers sit outside, building rams and siege towers, preparing for a battle that never comes. Do you really wish to hear this, Sansa?"

"I do," she said, taking a small sip of spiced wine, feeling the warmth spread through her chest. Sansa wanted to prepare herself for what was going to happen – she'd had enough unpleasant surprises during this war.

"Ryman Frey – a drunken fool by all accounts - has raised a gallows. Every day at dawn he brings forth your uncle Edmure, drapes a noose around his neck, and threatens to hang him unless the castle yields." Sansa tried not to appear shocked, but her eyes must have conveyed her distress. "He's not been hanged – nor will he be," Jaime assured her. "The Blackfish pays Ryman's mummer's farce no mind, and every night, Lord Edmure is taken down again."

She looked up and met his eyes. "What are you going to do when we get to Riverrun?" she asked quietly.

"The Blackfish has provisions to last him two years. We can't very well wait him out. And I'll not have you traveling any longer than necessary, sweet girl. Especially not with our little cub growing inside you," he said in a low voice. They had agreed not to tell anyone of her pregnancy just yet. Jaime had not said it aloud, but she knew he was concerned about her being taken hostage if anyone knew she carried his heir. "I will attempt to treat with him and I mean to offer him generous terms. I have every intention of keeping my promise to you."

"But if he won't agree…you'll have to storm the castle won't you?" she asked.

Jaime took a large swallow of wine. "Come here," he said quietly, holding his hand out to her. She walked over and allowed Jaime to settle her on his lap. "I wish Cersei had not forced my hand, and made us stop here. But the siege does need to end."

She nodded against his shoulder. "I know. I want to go to our home, far away from all of this. You will try not to resort to a battle, won't you?"

"Of course," he said, kissing her cheek. "Now you need to eat some more." Sansa tried to return to her chair, but Jaime held her in place, a smirk on his face as he offered her a bite of food.

Sansa laughed. "You're not actually going to feed it to me?"

He pressed the food against her lips and she opened her mouth, letting him feed her the one bite. "I have to make certain you and the babe are properly nourished," he whispered.

Sansa loved the way he looked at her – as if nothing else in the world mattered to him but her. The way she'd always dreamed her husband would look at her. She had not meant for Jaime to learn of her pregnancy yet, but she was glad that he had figured it out. Especially since it brought him such obvious happiness, and made him even more protective of her. It had not been lost on her that Jaime had doubled her guards since learning that she carried his child.

She stayed on his lap as they fed each other bits of food, and let Jaime hold and cuddle her, making up for the time they had not been able to speak and touch during their travel. She knew that Jaime could not show weakness in front of his men, and his affection for her would likely be considered a weakness. But she treasured the time when they were alone and he could lower the mask of the Lord of Casterly Rock, and show how much he loved her.

...

It was late afternoon when they sighted Riverrun. The Tully castle's sandstone walls were drenched in red-gold light, and seemed higher and thicker than Jaime had remembered. _This nut will not crack easily_, he thought gloomily. If the Blackfish would not listen to reason, Jaime would have no choice but to break the promise he'd made to Sansa. He wanted to keep his promise, but Sansa's safety – and the safety of the child she carried - was more important to him. And he could not take her safely to Casterly Rock until the siege was over.

The boom across the river and the three great camps of the besieging army were just as his cousin had described. Ser Ryman Frey's encampment was the largest. A great grey gallows loomed above the tents. On it stood a solitary figure with a rope around his neck. _Edmure Tully_. Jaime felt a stab of pity. _To keep him standing there day after day with that noose around his neck…better to have his head off and be done with it._

Jaime chose to raise his camp at the top of the hillside overlooking the keep. He turned to his squire. "Send a peace banner and a message to the castle. Inform Ser Brynden that I would have words with him, at first light on the morrow. I will come to the edge of the moat and meet him at the drawbridge."

Peck looked alarmed. "My lord, the bowmen could…"

"They won't." Jaime dismounted and handed the reigns of his horse to Peck, watching as Sansa made her way towards him. Sansa stood beside him as they waited for their tent to be raised, and he saw her curiously looking over at Riverrun, her eyes focusing on the Direwolf standard of House Stark flying the highest of them all on the top of the castle. He saw a glimmer of tears in her eyes and reached over to take her hand. _I expect she hasn't even seen the standard of her house since her father was executed nearly a year ago. _"Have you ever been to Riverrun?"

Sansa shook her head. "My mother used to tell me stories about her childhood home, but I've never seen it myself."

"The first time I saw Riverrun, I was a squire." She looked at him in surprise. "Old Sumner Crakehall sent me to deliver a message, one he swore could not be entrusted to a raven. Your grandfather, Lord Hoster, kept me for a fortnight whilst mulling his reply, and sat me beside your aunt Lysa at every meal."

He saw her smile despite herself at the thought of he and her Aunt Lysa together. "And how did you like her?"

Jaime chuckled. "At that age, no girl interested me half so much as Hoster's famous brother, the Blackfish. At the table, I ignored poor Lysa while pressing Brynden Tully for tales of Meslys the Monstrous and the Ebon Prince. I admired him very much. I wanted to be him." Sansa turned her attention back to the view before them, looking at the encampments.

"I've never been this close to a battlefield," she said quietly. She turned to Jaime suddenly and he could see fear in her eyes. "You will be careful, won't you, Jaime?"

"Nothing will happen to me. You have no reason to be scared." Their tent was raised and Jaime escorted Sansa in as his standard was planted in the ground, kissing her once they were alone, trying to reassure her of his safety. He wasn't used to having someone who worried about his safety as much as Sansa did – and he'd certainly never had a woman with him on the battlefield – he wasn't quite certain how to prove to her that he was quite safe. "It shouldn't be long before we receive visitors," he remarked once his standards had been planted.

As Jaime predicted, it was less than ten minutes before they were sought out. "Here you are at last," boomed his Aunt Genna. She filled the door, with her Frey husband peering out from behind her. "Past time. Have you no hug for your old fat aunt?" She held out her arms and left him no choice but to embrace her. As Jaime hugged his aunt dutifully, she planted soft and sloppy kisses on his cheeks. "I am sorry for your loss."

"I had a new hand made – out of gold." He showed her.

"It's very nice. Will they make you a gold father too?" Lady Genna's voice was sharp. "_Tywin_ was the loss I meant. Some odd tales have been reaching us from the capitol of late," Lady Genna said. "A woman hardly knows what to believe. Can it really be true that Tyrion slew Tywin? Or is that some lie your sister put about?"

"It's true enough," Jaime said softly, guilt overcoming him yet again for his role in Tyrion's horrible act. Sansa moved to stand beside him and gently rubbed his arm and took his hand, to comfort him.

Jaime saw Lady Genna focus on Sansa, noting her clear affection for him. "This must be Lady Lannister. Truly, Jaime, I never thought I'd see the day you took a wife, vows or no. He was always more interested in being a great knight than chasing maidens," she explained to Sansa. "Let me have a look at you, sweetling," she said holding her hands out to Sansa.

She looked at Jaime nervously, but he nodded, rubbing his hand over her back to encourage her. He could understand why she would be reluctant to meet yet another Lannister. And his Aunt Genna was not the most calming presence. Sansa slowly moved towards his aunt. "You are quite a beauty. And quite blessed with youth," she said, looking sideways at Jaime. "I suppose you may keep him young. Have you gotten a child on her yet, nephew? It has been nearly five moons since your marriage and now that you are Lord of the Rock, heirs are rather necessary."

Sansa looked at him in alarm, and Jaime rested a hand on her shoulder – knowing his Aunt could not possibly know his little wife was with child. "We have no announcement to make yet, Aunt. I'll be sure to let you know when there is happy news." Sansa was only visibly pregnant because Jaime was so familiar with her body. He had slept with her in his arms, his hand protectively over her belly the night before, when he learned she carried his child.

"I don't expect it's for lack of trying," she said and Jaime smirked to himself as Sansa colored.

Her husband, Lord Emmon, the eldest son of Walder Frey, cleared his throat. "Enough of this talk. Your cousin, Daven means to break my walls, smash my gates. He talks of burning pitch, of setting the castle afire. _My_ _castle_." He reached up one sleeve, brought out a parchment, and thrust it in Jaime's face. "I have the decree. Signed by the king, by Tommen, see, the royal seal. I am the lawful lord of Riverrun, and I will not have it reduced to a smoking ruin."

"Oh, put that fool thing away," his wife snapped. "So long as the Blackfish sits inside Riverrun, you can wipe your arse with that paper for all the good it does. Jaime will deliver you the castle. Emm, why don't you step outside and have a breath of air?"

"A breath of air?"

"Or a good long piss, if you prefer. My nephew and I have family matters to discuss." Jaime laughed to himself at the shocked expression on Sansa's face at his Aunt's manner of speaking. No sooner was he gone than Lady Genna rolled her eyes. "My lord and master. What was your father thinking, to name him Lord of Riverrun?"

"I imagine he was thinking of your sons."

"I think of them as well. Emm will make a wretched lord. Ty may do better, if he has the sense to learn from me and not his father." She looked around the tent. "Do you have wine?"

Sansa seemed grateful for the errand and found a flagon, pouring a cup for his aunt, before retreating to a chair with her needlework, trying to avoid his aunt's attentions, though he could plainly see she was listening to their conversation.

"Men say that your father never smiled, but he smiled when he wed your mother, and when Aerys made him Hand. And he smiled at your birth, Jaime. I saw that with mine own eyes. You and Cersei, pink and perfect, as alike as two peas in a pod…well, except between the legs. What lungs you had!"

"Hear us roar." Jaime saw Sansa smiling to herself, no doubt thinking about the babe in her belly. "Next you'll be telling me how much my father liked to laugh."

"No. Tywin mistrusted laughter. I promise you, this mummers farce of a siege would not have amused him. How do you mean to end it, now that you're here?"

"Treat with the Blackfish."

"That won't work."

"I mean to offer him good terms."

"Terms require trust. The Freys murdered guests beneath their roof…" she trailed off as she remembered Sansa's presence, and that it was her brother murdered by the Freys, "and you, well, I mean no offense, my love, but you did kill a certain king you had sworn to protect."

"Tell me, Aunt, what would you counsel?" His tone was harsher than he intended, but he was in no mood for having Aerys Targaryen thrown in his face.

"I would never presume to tell you how to fight a war. I know my place…unlike your sister. Is it true Cersei burned the Red Keep?"

"Only the Tower of the Hand. That was quite enough," Jaime said in annoyance.

"Won't you join us, sweetling?" Lady Genna asked Sansa. "I should like to know you, now that you are family." Jaime watched as she reluctantly put her needlework down and walked to the table, sitting close to him. He rested his arm on the back of her chair as she sought comfort from his physical presence. "How old are you, Sansa?"

"Sixteen," Sansa said quietly.

His aunt looked at him pointedly, no doubt calculating the age difference between them in her head. "You have the look of a Tully. This must be difficult for you. Married to the opposite side of the battlefield as your family."

Sansa glanced at Jaime before responding. "Yes. Though, I know it could be much worse. Jaime has been very kind, very loving to me," she said quietly, looking down at her hands. "And I'm very glad to be here with him." He rubbed her shoulder and met his aunt's eyes, hoping she was satisfied.

"My brother was furious when you joined the Kingsguard, Jaime. King Aerys had taken away his heir." She looked at Sansa again. "I expect he was quite happy when Jaime married you. It is a good match. Politically and … personally, from the looks of it." Aunt Genna looked at Sansa carefully. "I know you did not choose this marriage. That your parents did not choose this marriage for you. But I clearly see that you have found a way to be happy with one another. That's more than most find in a marriage between a lord and lady."

Jaime met Lady Genna's gaze. "Sansa and I are very fortunate that my father chose to unite us," he said, rubbing his hand over her arm as Sansa leaned against him.

She smiled. "Your father loved you, Jaime. He would not have wanted you in a marriage that would not bring you happiness. I was only seven when I was betrothed to Emmon, who was fourteen. The only person who dared to speak out against the match was Tywin. A boy of ten. Yet he spoke so fiercely, Father turned as white as milk and Walder Frey was _quivering_. How could I not love him after that? That is not to say that I approved of all he did, or much enjoyed the company of the man that he became…but every little girl needs a big brother to protect her." She looked at Sansa. "I expect you know that as well, sweetling. Who will protect us now, Jaime?"

Jaime took her hand. "Tywin left a son."

"Aye, he did. That is what I fear the most, in truth."

"Why should you fear?"

"Jaime," she said, "My love, I have known you since you were a babe at Joanna's breast. You smile like Gerion and fight like Tyg, and there's some of Kevan in you, else you would never have worn that white cloak…but _Tyrion_ is Tywin's son, not you. I said so once to your father's face, and he would not speak to me for half a year."

Jaime was stunned at her words.

"You're more Joanna's son, than Tywin's. You do not have your father's desire for power. And you hide it away now, Jaime, but as a boy, you had Joanna's kindness and her sense of duty and honor." Lady Genna rose from the table and considered them both. "Though, you do look at your wife as Tywin looked at Joanna."

After his aunt left them alone, Sansa reached up to touch his face, leaning up to kiss him. "I love you, Jaime," she whispered. "And she's right. We are fortunate that your father chose to marry us to one another. I thank the gods every day for giving you to me."

Jaime smiled as he held her in his arms, resting his head on top of hers. "If I actually prayed, I would certainly thank the gods for you," he whispered as she hit him for his blasphemy.

He couldn't help thinking about his aunt's words and wondered if she was correct. She was right that he didn't desire power as both Tyrion and his father did; and though he'd allowed Cersei to lead him astray for many years, Jaime did believe that he was capable of honor. He met Sansa's big blue eyes, finding her studying him and told himself that he would be an honorable man. For her, and for their child. And for himself.

...

_Next Chapter: The Blackfish & Edmure Tully make their appearances…_


	26. Chapter 26

_Thank you all for your continued reading and encouragement. Enjoy!_

...

Chapter 26

It was daybreak when Jaime rode to the drawbridge to treat with the Blackfish. Sansa had been visibly afraid when he'd mounted his horse to ride out to the castle. She'd insisted on waiting with his cousin, Ser Devan, at the edge of the camp, unwilling to sit in their tent, wondering. Jaime had given in to her request knowing she would be safe sitting on a mare beside Ser Devan.

Jaime drew up a yard from Ser Brynden, and inclined his head to the older man. He looked none the worse for wear, considering he'd been a virtual prisoner inside Riverrun for months. "Kingslayer," said Tully.

That he would make that name the first word from his mouth spoke volumes, but Jaime was resolved to keep his temper. "Blackfish," he responded. "Thank you for coming."

The Blackfish was looking at him the way that Eddard Stark had looked at him when he'd found him on the Iron Throne with the Mad King's blood upon his blade. "I've seen that a lady travels with you, Kingslayer. You've brought your wife here, haven't you? I trust she's in good health?"

"Lady Sansa is quite well."

"I wonder why you would bring her here. Do you plan to place Lady Catelyn's daughter beside Edmure on the gallows?"

Jaime forced himself to ignore the Blackfish's comments regarding Sansa. "I would like to resolve this matter peacefully."

"Peacefully? Is that why my nephew is threatened with hanging each and every day?"

"That is not my doing. And Ryman Frey has clearly failed to move you."

"My nephew is marked for death no matter what I do. So hang him and be done with it. I expect that Edmure is as weary of standing on those gallows as I am of seeing him there."

This was not going well. It was clear to Jaime that the Blackfish was determined to be disagreeable, but Jaime was equally determined to end the siege and get Sansa safely to Casterly Rock. "You hold the Westerlings within the castle. Will you exchange them for Edmure?"

"No. My king entrusted his queen to me and I swore to keep her safe. I will not hand her over to a Frey noose. "

"The girl has been pardoned. No harm will come to her. You have my word on that."

"Your word of honor?" Ser Brynden raised an eyebrow. "Do you even know what honor is, Kinglsayer?"

For one mad moment, Jaime wanted to volunteer that Honor was the name of his horse, but he forbore, sensing the Blackfish was in no mood for his humor. "I will swear any oath that you require."

"Spare me, Kingslayer."

"_I want to_. Strike your banners and open your gates, and I'll grant your men their lives. Those who wish to remain at Riverrun in service to Lord Emmon may do so. The rest shall be free to go where they will, though I will require them to surrender their arms and armor."

The Blackfish smiled. "And what of me? Will I be paraded through Kings Landing to die like Eddard Stark?" He saw the Blackfish look past him, no doubt seeing Sansa waiting in the distance. "Was it not enough for your family to kill Ned? Kill his son and take his wife prisoner? You Lannisters had to bring an innocent young girl into your war with the Starks? You wish me to accept your word of honor, yet you have defiled Ned Stark's teenage daughter as an act of war?"

"Sansa is my _wife_. She's not a hostage. I've not mistreated her. I've given her far more protection in this war than her own family has."

"Protection? _Your family_ is who she needs protection from. Your sister and…your bastard _son_ before he was killed. You offer Edmure in exchange for the Westerlings. Will you give me Lady Lannister as well? Will you let her go free?" Ser Brynden asked curiously.

"I'm afraid Sansa belongs to me now," Jaime said tightly. "And she would not wish to be traded. Whatever you think of me, I've never harmed Sansa. It's for her sake that I'd like to avoid storming the castle."

The Blackfish raised an eyebrow. "How many times did you have to violate Sansa before you broke her spirit and she became the dutiful wife?"

"I will permit you to take the black," Jaime ground out, though he wished to knock Ser Brynden from his horse for suggesting that he had raped Sansa into submission.

The Blackfish narrowed his eyes. "No, ser, I think not. I'll die warm, if you please, with a sword in hand running red with lion blood."

"Tully blood runs just as red," Jaime reminded him. "If you will not yield the castle, I must storm it. Hundreds will die."

"Hundreds of mine. Thousands of yours."

"This defiance serves no purpose. The war is done, and your Young Wolf is dead."

"Murdered. In breach of all the sacred laws of hospitality."

"That was Walder Frey's work, not mine."

"Call it what you will. It stinks of Tywin Lannister."

Jaime could not deny that, though the scorn in his voice made Jaime bristle. "There is a quicker way to decide the matter. A single combat. My champion against yours."

"I was wondering when you would get to that." Ser Bynden laughed "Who will it be? Stongboar? Addam Marbrand? Black Walder Frey?" He leaned forward. "Why not you and me, ser?"

_That would have been a sweet fight once_, Jaime thought, _fine fodder for the singers._ "My lady wife made me swear not to take arms again against the Starks or Tullys."

"A most convenient oath, ser."

His face darkened. "Are you calling me a coward?"

"No, I am calling you a cripple." The Blackfish nodded at Jaime's golden hand. "We both know you cannot fight with that."

"I had two hands. Some might say a cripple and an old man are well matched." In the heat of anger, Jaime convinced himself that he could actually prevail against the Blackfish in single combat. Ser Ilyn was defeating him less soundly than he had been at the start of their journey. "If Sansa frees me from my vow, I will meet you sword to sword. If I win, Riverrun is ours. If you slay me, we'll lift the siege." Were Jaime not so blinded by anger, he would have realized that Sansa would never give him leave to fight - never permit him to risk death - but he wasn't thinking straight.

Ser Brynden laughed. "As if I could trust the word of Lannisters and Freys. All I would achieve is the pleasure of cutting out your black heart. The siege would continue."

"Are there any terms you will accept?" he demanded of the Blackfish

"From you? No."

"Why did you even come here?" Jaime asked in frustration.

"A siege is deadly dull. I wanted to see this stump of yours and inquire after Lady Catelyn's daughter." The Blackfish wheeled his mare and trotted back toward Riverrun.

Jaime turned around for the long ride back to the Lannister siege lines, overcome with anger and humiliation. He could feel the eyes on him. _If they are not blind, they'll all know he threw my offer in my teeth._ He would need to storm the castle. _Well, what's one more broken vow? _

...

Sansa hated being on the battlefield. Though she could see it was where Jaime belonged. His men worshipped him and even Sansa could see that Jaime was a good Lord and a good leader. To see him among his soldiers reminded her of her father. Though Jaime had a more personal relationship with his men than her father ever had. Her father had been much more reserved than Jaime; more serious. She had watched her husband walk through the camp and saw many groups of his men call him aside, to ask him a question or offer him a cup of ale. She could see how much they admired him.

When Jaime began to ride back to her after treating with her Ser Brynden, she could see that he was not happy. Sansa looked at Ser Devan Lannister beside her in question.

He shook his head at her. "It appears Ser Brynden is unwilling to relent."

"What will happen?"

"I expect Jaime will have to convene a war council. Storm the castle."

Sansa felt her heart skip a beat at the thought of Jaime fighting in a war. "Who do you think will prevail?"

"Ser Brynden is greatly outnumbered, my lady. He cannot win."

"You won't allow Jaime to be hurt, will you?" she whispered as her husband neared them.

"Of course not, my lady. I'll personally ensure his safety."

She nodded, somewhat satisfied. As Ser Devan had predicted, Jaime had convened a war council and been gone from their tent for several hours. When he returned, he was still in a black mood. She left him alone for a while, but when she finally approached him, he was staring at his golden hand with contempt, a glass of wine on the table in front of him. She realized that Ser Brynden must have mentioned his stump. Jaime would never admit it, but he was sensitive about his missing hand and whenever it was mentioned, he was generally overcome with shame.

Sansa walked over to Jaime and ran her fingers through his hair. She wasn't sure how he would receive her and was relieved when he sighed and leaned into her touch. "What happened today, Jaime?"

"There were no terms he would accept. Not from me. I suppose I should have known better. A man without honor should know better than to think that anyone would rely upon his word."

"Why do you say you are a man without honor?"

"I'm an oathbreaker, my sweet, don't you know that by now?" he said bitterly, turning to face her. "And now…I made you a promise and….I can't conceive of a way to keep it."

"What did he say to you? I know he must have said something about your hand…"

He laughed bitterly. "Yes. I offered to resolve the matter through single combat – my champion against his. I even offered to fight him myself."

"Jaime!"

"Don't worry, sweet girl, he declined my foolish offer. Even Ser Brynden wouldn't take advantage of a useless cripple. Though he was most interested in getting a look at my stump."

Sansa felt for him. Jaime was a proud man. She had learned in the few months they had been married that a good deal of his identity was tied to being the greatest swordsman in the Seven Kingdoms. And she knew how difficult it must be for him to be reminded daily that he couldn't do what he was once the best at. "What else did he say?"

"He was…most displeased about our marriage. He wanted to know how many times I've raped you." Sansa felt her anger rise as Jaime's eyes focused on the floor. "I suppose you never had much of a choice about sharing my bed. Perhaps the Blackfish was right. Perhaps it was indecent of me to take you as my wife. You were a hostage. An innocent." He took a sip of wine before putting down his cup. "It was just…you looked at me as if I was still…capable of saving someone. As if I were your hero. And you're such a pretty little thing…I suppose I needed comfort and affection as much as you did and…I couldn't resist having you. And now, I'm far too attached to give you up." He whispered the last and Sansa moved into his arms.

Sansa held him tightly and, rested her head on his shoulder. "You did save me. Jaime, no one knows how we feel about each other, except for us. Others may think they know what our marriage is about but they don't. And I certainly don't want you to give me up. I could never give you up, Jaime." Sansa sighed. "I want you to do what needs to be done."

"What do you mean?"

"End this. It's not fair of me to tie your hands – with a promise. You need to end this siege so we can leave the battlefield and go to Casterly Rock." Sansa didn't want to remain in the Riverlands. She wanted to go to what would be her new home as she waited for the arrival of their child. She had had enough of this war.

"You're certain? I can try to think of a way…"

"Do what needs to be done," she said in a whisper. Jaime kissed her and rose from the table. "Where are you going?"

"It's time I paid a visit to those gallows."

He left the tent and Sansa followed him to the entrance, peeking out and, watching Jaime purposefully walk towards his horse, no doubt to ride down to the river and take a ferry out to the Frey camp and the gallows. _I hope I haven't made a mistake, unleashing Jaime on my family._

...

Atop the gallows, the Lord of Riverrun stood staring at the trap beneath him. His feet were black and caked with mud, his legs bare. Edmure wore a soiled silken tunic striped in Tully red and blue and a noose of hempen rope. At the sound of Jaime's footsteps, he raised his head. "Kingslayer?" The sight of Ser Ilyn widened his eyes. "Better a sword than a rope, I suppose. Do it, Payne."

"You heard Lord Tully. Do it," Jaime said with a smirk.

The silent knight gripped the greatsword with both hands. As Ser Ilyn drew the blade back, Edmure closed his eyes.

"No! Stop. NO!" Edwyn Frey came panting into view. "My father comes. Fast as he can. Jaime, you must…."

"_My lord_ would suit me better, Frey," said Jaime. "And you would do well to omit the word must from any speech directed at me."

His father, Ser Ryman, came stomping up the gallows steps in company with a straw-haired whore as drunk as he was. Her gown was unlaced to the navel so her breasts were spilling out. On her head, a circlet of hammered bronze sat askew. When she saw Jaime, she laughed. "Who in seven hells is this one?"

"The Lord of Casterly Rock," Jaime returned with a cold courtesy that would make his father proud. "I might ask the same of you my lady."

"Lady? I'm no lady. I'm the queen."

"My sister will be surprised to hear that," Jaime said dryly.

"Lord Ryman crowned me his very self. I'm the queen of whores."

_No_, Jaime thought, _my sweet sister holds that title too_. Jaime turned his attention to Ryman Frey – the idiot who put Edmure Tully on the gallows every day, only to take him down every night. "Only a fool makes threats he's not prepared to carry out. For example, if I were to threaten to hit you unless you shut your mouth, and you presumed to speak, what do you think I'd do?"

"Ser, you do not unders-"

Jaime hit him. It was a backhand blow delivered with his golden hand, but the force of it sent Ser Ryman stumbling backwards into the arms of his whore. "I have done nothing –"

"But drink and whore. I know."

"I am heir to The Crossing. You can't – "

"I warned you about talking. You are dismissed ser." Jaime had had enough of the Freys and their idiocy.

"Dismissed?"

"You heard me. Go away."

"But…where should I go?"

"To hell or home to the Twins, as you prefer. See that you are not in camp when the sun comes up." Jaime turned from Ser Ryman to his son. "I am giving you your father's command. Try not to be as stupid as your sire."

"That ought not pose much difficulty, my lord," Edwyn Frey said, watching his father stumble off with his drunk whore.

Jaime nodded to Ser Ilyn who swung the sword, cutting Edmure Tully loose before turning back to Edwyn Frey. "Send word to your grandfather, Lord Walder. The crown requires all his prisoners from the Red Wedding." Jaime waived his golden hand at Edmure. "Ser Addam, bring him."

As he returned to his ferry, Jaime noticed a man holding a woodharp. "You. Singer. Come with me."

No one said a word as they walked back to the ferry, with Ser Ryman's singer trailing after them. But as they left the riverbank Edmure Tully grabbed Jaime by the arm. "Why?"

"Consider it a wedding gift."

Edmure stared at him with wary eyes. "A…wedding gift? Yours or mine?"

Jaime smiled. Truth be told, he'd always liked Edmure Tully. "I am told your wife is pretty. She'd have to be, I suppose, for you to bed her while your king was being murdered."

"I never knew." Edmure licked his cracked lips. "There were fiddlers outside the bedchamber."

"And Lady Roslin was distracting you."

"She…they made her do it. Lord Walder and the rest. Roslin never wanted…she wept, but I thought it was…"

"The sight of your manhood? Aye, that would make any woman weep, I'm sure."

"She is carrying my child."

_No_, Jaime thought, _that's your death she has growing in her belly_. Jaime knew that if Roslin birthed a son, Lord Walder would have no need to keep EdmureTully alive. He looked at Sansa's uncle. Edmure Tully clearly had affection for his wife, despite her role in the Red Wedding.

Once they reached his camp, Jaime had Edmure ushered into the tent where he had convened his war council and dismissed Ser Addam and Ser Ilyn but not the singer. "I may have need of a song shortly," he told the man. Jaime ordered bathwater heated and clean clothing for Edmure. "Are you hungry, my lord?"

Edmure nodded, but his eyes were still suspicious.

Jaime addressed Sansa's uncle once he was dressed in clean clothes and seated at the table. "Once you've eaten, my men will escort you to Riverrun. What happens then is up to you."

"What do you mean?"

"Your uncle is an old man. Valiant, yes, but the best part of his life is done. Yield the castle and no one dies. Ser Brynden will be allowed to take the black, along with as many of the garrison as choose to join him. You may as well, if the Wall appeals to you. Or you may come to Casterly Rock as my captive and enjoy all the comforts and courtesy that befits a hostage of your rank. Your wife may join you, if you like."

Edmure looked at him in surprise.

"If her child is a boy, he will serve House Lannister as a page and a squire, and when he earns his knighthood we'll bestow some lands upon him. Should Roslin give you a daughter, I'll see her well dowered when she's old enough to wed. You yourself may even be granted parole, once the war is done. All you need do is yield the castle."

"And if I do not yield?"

_Must you make me say the words?_ "Then we will storm the castle. I will rain such hellfire on Riverrun you'll wish the Freys had gone ahead and hanged you. By the time I'm done no man will ever know a castle once stood here." Jaime got to his feet. "Your wife may give birth before the battle is done. You'll want your child, I expect. I'll send him to you when he's born. With a catapult."

Silence followed his speech. _With a catapult_. If his aunt had been there, would she still say Tyrion was Tywin's son?

Edmure Tully finally found his voice. "I could kill you where you stand, Kingslayer."

"You could try." Jaime waited, though Edmure made no move. "I'll leave you to enjoy your food. Singer, play for our guest. You know the song, I trust." Jaime knew what the Freys had done during the Red Wedding. That "the Rains of Castemere" had played, as a signal for the massacre to start, and had continued until King Robb was dead.

"The one about the rain?" the singer asked. "Aye, my lord. I know it."

Edmure seemed to see the man for the first time. "No. Not him. Get him away from me."

"Why? It's just a song," said Jaime. "He cannot have that bad a voice."

Jaime left the tent as "the Rains of Castamere" began to play and met Ser Addam's eyes. He no doubt heard his words to Edmure, judging by his expression. _I suppose I have outdone myself. My father would be proud._ "See that he's escorted to Riverrun. I'll be in my tent. Let me know when he yields the castle."

Jaime walked the short distance to his tent and saw that Sansa was still awake, waiting for him. He sat beside her on the makeshift bed, pulling off his boots. He felt her eyes on him. "Wondering if you erred in releasing me from my promise to you?"

"A little," she confessed. "What did you do?"

"I removed your uncle from the gallows and brought him back to our camp. Once he finishes eating, he'll be returned to Riverrun. I expect he'll yield the castle by daybreak."

"Why would he do that?"

"I said if he yielded he and his wife could come to Casterly Rock as my hostages. And if he did not yield…" Jaime looked at her, hating himself, before resting his head in his hand, "I'd rather not tell you what I said would happen if he did not yield. It was a bluff but…he doesn't know that and I'd prefer not to speak the words aloud again. I should be able to keep my promise to you, at least."

"Come here?" she whispered.

Jaime sat next to her, holding her in his arms, moving his hand down over her stomach. Though she was still fully clothed, he could feel the slight roundness of her womb and the babe inside her. He'd kill any man who dared speak the words about his child that he spoke about Edmure's. _I couldn't think of any other way. Any other way to keep my promise to her. Any other way to get Sansa and our child safely to Casterly Rock_. "I'm sorry I'm not a better man, Sansa. I'm sorry that I have to become my father's son in this war…that I've had to threaten unspeakable things."

Sansa turned in his arms, pressing her chest against his and kissing him before resting her head on his shoulder. "My father…he was a different man when he was _Lord of Winterfell_, than he was when he was with the family. Sometimes it was as though he wasn't the man I knew as my father, when he would go off to behead a deserter. I've always understood that…that a lord is a different man when he's running his castle or leading his men than he is with his wife. With his family. Jaime…I know that you're doing what you feel you need to, to protect me. And our child. I know that."

Jaime held her in his arms, dropping a kiss on the top of her head, and wondered if it had ever affected his father to do the things he did for House Lannister; the things he did to win wars. Somehow Jaime doubted it.

_Perhaps my Aunt is right. Perhaps Tyrion is Tywin's son. Not me._ He never cared about power, the way his father and Tyrion did. And he didn't have the stomach for games and lies. Jaime knew that Tyrion had made an offer to Catelyn Stark - to exchange her two daughters for Jaime's freedom – despite the fact that only one of her daughters was in Kings Landing. Jaime never would have lied that way. His father would have. Jaime turned his gaze to his little wife in his arms, cuddled against his chest with her eyes closed, her fingers gently stroking the back of his neck. He'd happily give up Casterly Rock and all the power of being a Lannister, just to have her.

...

_Let me know what you think!_

_Next Chapter: Sansa meets her Uncle Edmure_


	27. Chapter 27

_Thank you all so much for reading and for the wonderful reviews. Jaime is a difficult character to write for because he's not black & white. It's challenging to capture that, and to write a romance for him without making him out of character - though there are several great fanfics on here that have managed to do that, and I appreciate all of you who are reading this one. And I appreciate the encouragement. _

_..._

Chapter 27

It was still dark when Edmure Tully sent up the peace banner, opened the gates and surrendered Riverrun. It was not a simple matter for Edmure's men to be taken prisoner, the castle searched and secured, and turned over to the Lannisters; the entire process took hours and hours. Of course, it had not gone exactly as planned. Once the castle was secured, Lannister soldiers marched Edmure into Hoster Tully's solar where Jaime, Lady Genna and Lord Emmon waited. Jaime motioned for his men to wait outside.

The Emmon Frey, new Lord of Riverrun, was so angry he was shaking. "I will have his head off! I rule Riverrun, by the king's own decree. I am lord and I will have his head!"

"For what crime?" Thin as he was, Edmure still looked more lordly than Emmon Frey ever would. "I did all that was asked of me."

"Oh?" Jaime had not slept since Riverrun had opened its gates and his head was pounding. "I do not recall asking you to let Ser Brynden escape."

"You required me to surrender my castle, not my uncle." For a man who was going to spend the rest of his life as a prisoner, Edmure was entirely too pleased with himself for Jaime's taste.

"How did he escape?"

Edmure was silent for a long time, clearly not intending to answer the question, though Jaime's murderous expression must have made him reconsider. "Fish can swim," he said with a smile. Jaime exhaled in annoyance. In the confusion of the castle changing hands, it had been many hours before Jaime had been informed that the Blackfish was not amongst the prisoners.

"You have to find him," Lord Emmon yelled.

"After the trouble Ser Brynden took to leave us, I doubt he'll come skulking back," Jaime snapped. _Unless it is at the head of a band of outlaws._

Ser Emmon left in a flurry with his wife trailing after him – no doubt to take inventory of his castle. "Is there more that you would care to tell me?" Jaime asked Edmure when the two of them were alone.

"This was my father's solar," said Tully. "He ruled the Riverlands from here, wisely and well. He liked to sit beside that window. The light was good there, and whenever he looked up from his work he could see the river. You will never know how sick it makes me to see you in this room, Kingslayer. You will never know how much I despise you."

Jaime sensed someone in the doorway and turned to see Sansa, along with several guards that were escorting her. She had a scared look on her face, having heard Edmure's words to Jaime. They were to stay in the castle overnight before traveling to the Twins the following morning. Edmure had taken Jaime up on the offer for Lady Roslin to accompany them to Casterly Rock, and Jaime would have to negotiate with Walder Frey to make that happen.

Jaime had waited to have Sansa brought over to Riverrun from their camp until he was certain the castle was secure and there were no enemies left within the keep. He saw Edmure's eyes go to Sansa, watching as his Tully blue eyes met hers. Edmure was plainly startled by his niece's presence at Riverrun. "You're Sansa aren't you?" he asked quietly as he looked at her.

She nodded. "Hello…Uncle."

He smiled faintly. "You were just a little thing no higher than my knee when I last saw you but…I'd recognize you anywhere. I can see your mother in you."

Jaime saw Sansa's eyes turn glassy with emotion at the mention of Lady Catelyn and stepped towards her, taking her arm. "We'll be fine here," he said, dismissing her guards. He met her eyes, silently asking if she was all right.

"I'm fine," she whispered to Jaime, looking curiously at her uncle.

"Your mother will be very happy to know that you are...well," Edmure said quietly, clearly looking Sansa over for any bruises or visible injuries.

Ser Addam entered the room, a white cloth folded in his hands. "You asked for this, my lord," he said, handing it to Jaime, before turning on his heel to resume assisting with the takeover of the castle.

Jaime handed the cloth to Sansa. "Your brother's standard from the top of the castle. I thought you would like to have it."

Her tears fell then as she clutched the silk cloth. "Thank you, Jaime" she whispered and he gently wiped the tears from her eyes with his thumbs.

She leaned against him and Jaime ran his hand over her hair, trying to comfort her. He met Edmure's eyes and could see he was surprised by his kindness toward Sansa. It went against Jaime's instinct to allow an enemy to see how much he cared for Sansa – that she was his greatest weakness – but he couldn't bring himself to let her to cry without comforting her. "Despite your feelings about my presence here, I expect my lady wife's does not offend you. Is there anything in the keep that you feel Sansa should have as a keepsake? Before Riverrun is turned over to my Aunt and her husband."

Edmure led them to his father's bedchamber and opened a dresser drawer, withdrawing a silver mirror. "This belonged to my lady mother. I don't remember her well, but, after she died, my father kept this. The rest of her belongings he gave to Cat and Lysa." Sansa had not strayed from Jaime's side, her arm linked through his. As Edmure offered her the mirror, she hesitantly crossed the room to approach him. Jaime leaned against the doorway to watch their interaction. "You should have this, Sansa. This shouldn't go to the Freys or the Lannisters. You should have something of your grandmother's."

Jaime watched as she considered the man who had just spoken such venomous words to her husband before hesitantly taking his offering, whispering her thanks.

"Has he hurt you?" he whispered to her.

Jaime knew he wasn't meant to hear his question to her, but he let Edmure ask it. Edmure would be his hostage at Casterly Rock and would have plenty of opportunities to speak to Sansa. If his words were enough to turn Sansa against him, Jaime knew there was little he could do to stop it. Jaime told himself to have faith in Sansa's love for him; in the relationship they had built together, piece by piece. She wasn't as faithless as Cersei had been.

"Jaime has not hurt me. I'm quite well, Uncle. I know what you think of my lord husband, but he's never harmed me or threatened me. Not once. And he never would. I believe I would be dead if it weren't for him." She raised her eyes and looked straight at her uncle. "I suppose that you and I both owe Jaime our lives."

Jaime couldn't help smiling to himself at her words of loyalty.

...

Sansa sat with Jaime in her grandfather's solar, her uncle Edmure having been taken to a tower room under guard until they left for the Twins in the morning. She didn't remember Edmure Tully, though he said he'd met her when she was a little girl. When she saw him, all she could think was that he looked like Robb. And in that moment, she missed the brother she would never see again.

Jaime had told her that Edmure Tully and his lady wife were to travel with them to Casterly Rock, where he would live as hostages until the war ended, and perhaps longer. Sansa was no stranger to such an arrangement. She couldn't remember a time when Theon Greyjoy had not lived with them. Sansa worried about her uncle's clear hostility to Jaime. Jaime had assured her that Casterly Rock was a huge castle, second only to Harrenhal in size, and they could live quite separate lives from any hostages. Still, she had tried to smooth things over when Edmure had asked if Jaime had hurt her. She had wanted to respond with venom, to tell him not to see her as a victim in her marriage, but she thought better of it.

It had meant a lot to her that Jaime had given her Robb's standard that she had seen flying atop Riverrun when they arrived. Joffrey would have made her tear it to shreds or burn it. She held it in her lap now as she sat beside Jaime on the sofa. She reached over and took her husband's hand. "Jaime? Truly, thank you for this," she said, gesturing to the banner in her lap. He leaned over and kissed her forehead.

"My lord?" A guardsman stood in the open door. "Lady Westerling and her daughter are without, as you commanded."

Jaime turned to her. "Do you wish to wait in the bedchamber?"

"I'd like to stay. If it's all right. I just want to see her." Sansa was curious about the girl her brother Robb had risked the war for; the girl he had died over.

Jaime looked at her for a long time before he nodded and turned back to his guard. "Show them in."

When Jeyne Westerling entered the room, Sansa supposed she was pretty enough, though she was even younger than Sansa was, and she couldn't help the dislike and jealousy that overcame her. Robb had risked victory in the war – breaking his oath to an ally and ultimately dying – to marry this girl. A girl he barely knew. _Yet, he did not lift a finger to protect me. His sister. _Robb wouldn't free Jaime, even though it would have saved Sansa's life and ended her torture. She felt tears begin to form in her eyes as she wondered if Robb had even thought about her; had even wondered how she was surviving in King's Landing.

Sansa turned her face away to wipe her tears, vaguely aware that Jaime was introducing her to Jeyne and her mother, Lady Sybell. She turned back to them, rising to her feet and murmuring words of greeting. She saw that Jaime had noticed her distress, and nodded her head, telling him she was fine as she turned her attention back to the girl her brother had married. Robb's queen had a puffy face from crying and there was a scab on her forehead, half-hidden by a lock of brown hair. Jaime noticed it as well. "What happened there?" he asked her.

"It's nothing," insisted her mother, Lady Sybell Westerling, a stern-faced woman in a gown of green velvet. "She would not give up the little crown the rebel gave her, and when I tried to take it from her the willful child fought me." _The rebel? That's what she calls my brother?_

"It was mine," Jeyne sobbed. "You had no right. Robb had it made for me. I _loved_ him."

Her mother made to slap her but Jaime stepped between them. "None of that," he warned Lady Sybell. "Sit down, both of you." The girl curled up in her chair like a frightened animal, but her mother sat stiffly, her head high.

Jaime addressed the girl. "I am sorry for your loss. Robb Stark had courage and he led his men well. There is a question I must ask you. Are you carrying his child, my lady?"

Jeyne burst from her chair and would have fled the room if the guard had not seized her by the arm. "She is not," said Lady Sybell, as her daughter struggled to escape. "I made certain of that, as your lord father bid me." _She made certain of that? How could she?_ Sansa considered the mother, and found it wasn't difficult for her to picture the woman forcing moon tea down her daughter's throat at Lord Tywin's request. _No wonder her daughter can't get out of the room fast enough._

"Unhand the girl," Jaime said to the guards, "I'm done with her for now." As Jeyne fled sobbing, Jaime considered her mother and seemed just as disgusted with her as Sansa was. "Lord Westerling has his pardon. What else would you have of us?"

"Your lord father promised me worthy marriages for Jeyne and her younger sister. Lords or heirs, he swore to me, not younger sons nor household knights."

Sansa wrinkled her nose in disgust at her dead brother's mother in law. At her naked ambition. "You'll have your marriages," Jaime assured her.

"I have two sons as well," Lady Westerling reminded him. "Rollam is with me, but Raynald was a knight and went with the rebels to the Twins. If I had known what was to happen there, I would never have allowed that. He did not know of…of the understanding with your lord father. He may be a captive at the Twins."

Sansa didn't like the way Lady Sybell continued to call her brother and his men "the rebels." And it seemed to Sansa that she had plotted with Lord Tywin to betray Robb. In order to secure advantageous marriages for her children. What was worse, her cold manner reminded Sansa of Cersei. As if Sansa needed more reason to dislike the woman.

"If Ser Raynald is still a captive, we'll pay his ransom for you," Jaime assured her.

"Mention was made of a match for him as well. A bride from Casterly Rock. Your lord father had said that Raynald should have joy of him, if all went as we hoped."

"Joy is my late uncle Gerion's natural daughter. A betrothal can be arranged, if that is your wish, but any marriage will need to wait. Joy was nine or ten when I last saw her."

"His _natural_ daughter?" Lady Sybell looked as if she had swallowed a lemon. "You want a Westerling to wed a _bastard_?"

"No more than I want Joy to marry the son of some scheming turncloak bitch," Jaime said coldly. "She deserves better. Your daughter is worth ten of you, my lady. You may stay as my guest at Casterly Rock –"

"No." Sansa could see that Jaime was surprised when she spoke up from behind him, but she couldn't help herself. "You are right, Jaime. She is a turncloak. I don't like the way she speaks about my brother and I don't want her in my home."

Lady Sybell's face darkened. "Your brother was a rebel against the crown-"

"You keep saying that," Sansa interrupted, "but it seems you were quite happy to wed your daughter to him and to live here with him when the war was in his favor. When you believed she would be queen."

"How dare you?"

Jaime's voice was like ice. "You would be wise to watch your tongue when addressing my wife. If Lady Sybell's presence displeases you, my love, she is not welcome at Casterly Rock. You may stay here, my lady. Enjoy the Riverlands."

Lady Sybell opened her mouth to argue, but Jaime called his guards in to escort her out before she had the chance. Jaime walked over to where Sansa had resumed her seat and dropped to his knees before her. "I'm sorry you had witness that."

"She knew Robb was going to be killed before it happened, didn't she?"

"I believe so."

"I'm sorry, Jaime, if I spoke out of turn but I didn't want her-"

"It's all right," he said, wiping the tears that were now forming in her eyes. "I meant what I said. I'll not force you to have anyone in your home that you don't want there. And the Rock will be your home. I have sent word to Walder Frey that the crown will require all of his hostages from the Red Wedding. Including your mother."

Sansa looked at him in surprise. "Why?"

"The Freys are not to be trusted. And after witnessing their treatment of Edmure…I thought it best to bring your mother with us to Casterly Rock. She will be a hostage," he said gently, "but she would not be in danger of death."

"Thank you," she whispered, cupping Jaime's cheek. "I know you're doing this for me." She considered him. "You must be tired. You haven't slept since the castle fell." She leaned forward and kissed him. Jaime rested his head on her lap as she hugged him, kissing the top of his head.

_I'm going to see my mother again._ It didn't seem real to her. She'd long ago accepted that she would never again see her family. Sansa looked down at her husband and ran her hand over his head. _I wonder what my mother will think of me? I'm in love with Jaime Lannister and carrying his child. _She thought of how her uncle had assumed that Jaime had hurt her - that he was cruel to her in their marriage. She knew her mother would think far worse. Sansa couldn't help feeling afraid of what her mother's reaction would be when they were reunited.

...

_Thanks for reading! At this point, the plot of the books is largely being left behind, since we're about at the end of Jaime's story in the books. In the next chapter, Jaime speaks to Lady Stark._


	28. Chapter 28

_For this chapter, the interactions between Jaime & Catelyn while he was prisoner are going to be the same as the book - meaning they have not yet talked about Bran's fall or Jaime being Joffrey's father. He escaped before that happened. (And I'm taking some liberties with the location of the Twins, since it is WAY out of the way to Casterly Rock on the maps in the books)_

_As always, thank you for reading & reviewing!_

_..._

Chapter 28

As Sansa sat in her carriage, stitching a blanket for the child growing inside of her, she couldn't help but feel distracted. She had already stitched a lion on the blanket, and now she was working on a direwolf. It was the sight of her sigil that had started her mind to wandering. It had been a week since they left Riverrun and Sansa knew that she would see her mother soon, if Jaime was able to successfully negotiate with Walder Frey.

Jaime had told her to expect that her mother already knew that they were married. _But she can't possibly know that I've fallen in love with him. Or that I carry his child. _Sansa was afraid of how her mother would receive her, since the Lannisters were enemies of the Starks and the Tullys. As she ran her fingers over the partially stitched direwolf, Sansa wondered if her mother would see her as a turncloak. She feared that her mother would consider her affection for Jaime – and the fact that she carried his child – to be a betrayal. _I love Jaime. And I love our child. Surely mother will understand._

Sansa hoped that her mother would come to see how much Jaime cared for her and how much she cared for him. She hoped that she would see that Jaime had saved her when she had just about given up. She wanted her mother to know that Jaime was the reason she still had a daughter. Joffrey certainly would have been her death, if it weren't for Jaime.

Sansa's carriage slowed and she looked out the windows and saw the Frey's castle looming in the distance. Their bridge was a massive arch of smooth grey rock, wide enough for two wagons to pass abreast arching between the two squat, ugly, formidable castles, identical in every respect. The Twins. High walls, deep moats, and heavy oak-and-iron gates protected the approaches, and the bridge footings rose from within stout inner keeps.

Jaime had stopped his host nearly a mile away from the castle. One of Sansa's guards opened the doors of her carriage and took her hand to help her out. She walked towards Jaime and heard him tell his squire to raise their pavilion, plant his standards and send a peace banner to the Twins to announce their arrival. She enjoyed watching Jaime command his men, even over something so mundane. It made her feel safe to see that her husband was so powerful. She knew that no one would dare hurt her. Jaime smiled as she approached standing near him as they looked out towards the Twins. "I hope we'll leave for the Rock in the morning," he said, rubbing his hand over her back.

"So soon? Don't you have to speak to the Lord of the Crossing?"

"I plan to speak to him right now, and be back in time to join you for dinner."

Sansa was overcome by fear. "You're going inside the castle?"

"I don't expect I'll find him on the drawbridge," he said jokingly.

"Will you be safe?" she whispered. "After what he did to my brother…how can he be trusted? He could throw you in the dungeons or sell you to Stannis Baratheon or slit your throat. Make _him_ come out _here_, in view of your army." Sansa knew she must sound ridiculous, but she knew what Walder Frey had done – luring her brother and his men to the Twins for a wedding and then attacking when their guards were down, in violation of the sacred guest right. The thought of Walder Frey harming Jaime terrified her.

Jaime smiled, kissing her hand. "I'm not used to having someone here worrying about me."

"I do worry," she whispered, meeting his eyes.

"I promise you, I will return to you just as I am now. You have no reason to be scared. I have an army of 20,000 with me, outnumbering any men he may have inside. He wouldn't dare harm me. I'll return to you shortly."

Sansa forced herself to be brave and not to make it more difficult for Jaime to do what needed to be done at the Twins, though she couldn't stop being fearful. She nodded and watched as Jaime mounted his horse once again, taking ten thousand men with him as he rode to the castle, and leaving the other half to protect her. Sansa wrapped her cloak tighter around her body. It was cold – much colder than it should be here in the south.

_Winter is coming._

...

Jaime was ushered into the dining hall of the Lord of the Crossing's keep, to be received by Walder Frey. The hall was filled with those of Lord Walder's sons who were still alive and not fighting in the war, as well as his daughters and grandchildren. Lord Walder was ninety, a wizened pink weasel with a bald spotted head, and too gouty to stand unassisted. He was seated in the high seat of the Freys, and his newest wife, a pale, frail girl who looked no older than Sansa, stood beside him. She was the eighth Lady Frey, if Jaime recalled correctly.

"Ser Jaime, I had not expected to see you here. What do you want?" he asked rudely.

Jaime tried to be civil to the treacherous old man. "I'm on my way to the Rock. However, given my father's untimely death, it has fallen to me to represent the Crown on my journey. To end the siege in the Riverlands."

"It is a pity the Imp turned on Lord Tywin. He was a fine man – a good mind for war strategy. He did much for the reputation of House Lannister. Though his death made you Lord of Casterly Rock. Does your young wife travel with you, Ser Jaime? The Stark girl? I'd like to get a look at her."

_I bet you would_. "Lady Lannister is at my camp. She would have accompanied me into your keep, but she's rather exhausted from all of our traveling, and thinks only of reaching Casterly Rock." Sansa had been terrified at the thought of Jaime entering Lord Walder's keep. He had no intention of bringing her with him and frightening her even more.

"That's a pity," Lord Walder mused, "Your lady wife would have been quite welcome. See my wife? She's a sweet little flower, and her honey is only for me. I wager she gives me a son by this time next year." Jaime forced himself not to show his disgust for the man nor his pity for the girl.

"I'll not waste your time, my lord. Now that I have delivered Riverrun to your son Emmon, there is the matter of the prisoners taken at the Red Wedding."

"My grandson Edwyn sent word that you were demanding all of them."

"Not me. _The Crown_. I'm certain you would not deny the King anything he required."

Lord Walder sat back in his chair. "I take it you want your wife's mother, Lady Catelyn?"

"_The Crown_ requires all prisoners taken at the Red Wedding," Jaime repeated, refusing to make these negotiations personal.

"I'm willing to give you Lady Catelyn in exchange for Edmure Tully."

"No," Jaime said. "I made an agreement with Lord Tully to end the standoff at Riverrun. To give your son his castle. In exchange, Lord Tully will be my hostage at Casterly Rock." Jaime surveyed the room and saw a pretty young girl, who seemed teary at the mention of Edmure Tully; and she had her hand resting on her swollen belly. Jaime stepped toward the girl he suspected was Edmure Tully's wife. "Lady Roslin?" he asked.

She glanced at her father before nodding.

"Lord Tully has requested that you join him at Casterly Rock, my lady."

He saw her eyes light up before her father's voice boomed out. "That is out of the question."

"I'm prepared to offer excellent terms, my lord. Her child will be well-provided for." He looked at the young girl, as he addressed her, and could see why Edmure was so taken with her. She seemed far too gentle to be Walder Frey's daughter. "My lady, if you have a son, I'll see to it that he is given some lands when he comes of age. If your child is a girl, I'll provide her with a generous dowry once she reaches marriage age." He turned back to the Lord of the Crossing. "Your daughter will not be treated as a hostage. She may even share my lady wife's carriage for the trip to Casterly Rock. My sister will not offer better terms, I assure you. The queen has no use for your daughter or her child."

"Go then, girl. Get your things together." Roslin looked at Jaime with gratitude before leaving the room to get her belongings. Jaime expected Lord Frey was grateful to get a daughter out of the house at no expense.

"Lady Catelyn and the other prisoners?" Jaime asked with a bored tone. "You would do well to keep in mind, my lord, that Riverrun was given to Lord Emmon, your second son, by the Crown. Your daughter, Lady Roslin and her child will be well provided for. You will have the debt of the Crown for the death of Robb Stark. And you've already avenged yourself on the Starks. What more could you want?"

"How about Winterfell? I'd fancy having a piece of the North for my own, or for one of my sons. It would only be proper, since so many of its lords are now residents of my dungeons."

"Winterfell is not mine to give."

"You are Lord of Winterfell, due to your marriage to the Stark girl, are you not?"

Jaime's expression turned to ice. "I'll not allow you to take my wife's inheritance - her childhood home. She is Lady of Winterfell...thanks to your actions. Our second child will inherit Winterfell from her. And you'd do well to give the Crown what it asks. I have 20,000 of my men here, and am perfectly capable of _taking _your prisoners, whether you like it or not. Your arrangement was with my father, not with me. And not with King Tommen."

"You'd go back on your father's word?"

"I hope you don't force me to do so. I'm simply reminding you that you had no agreement with me, and no agreement with the King. We intend to uphold Lord Tywin's agreement. And all the Crown requires are your prisoners. Or shall you dig your heels in and become an enemy of House Lannister?"

Walder Frey narrowed his eyes, clearly angered by Jaime's words. "Singer," Jaime said, turning to the harpist he had appropriated from Ryman Frey. "A song if you please. While Lord Walder considers the Crown's request."

"The same one, my lord?" he asked, looking at Jaime.

"Yes. You know the one."

Jaime pulled his sword and leaned against the wall as "the Rains of Castamere" began to play, and Walder Frey looked around the room, considering how many men Jaime had and how few he did. Jaime examined his sword in boredom and glanced at Lord Frey. He knew from his expression that he had him. Walder Frey was many things. Stupid was not one of them.

...

Jaime was amazed at how quickly Lady Roslin managed to gather her belongings and prepare to leave her childhood home forever. He supposed if his father was Walder Frey, he'd be rather eager to leave as well. Jaime sent her off to his camp with an escort – under orders that she be given accommodations for the night and remain guarded until they left in the morning.

Jaime remained outside the Twins with his soldiers, waiting for Walder Frey to produce the prisoners from the Red Wedding. It wasn't long before two wagons of prisoners were wheeled out of the courtyard joining the twin towers. It was easy to spot Catelyn Stark among them. She was the only woman among the prisoners, and her dark red hair helped him to pick her out in the distance. Once he saw that Lord Walder had complied, Jaime turned his horse back to his camp as his soldiers took charge of the prisoners. Lady Catelyn was to continue on to Casterly Rock and the remainder were to be transported to Riverrun.

Jaime turned his horse over to his squire and waited for Lady Stark to be brought to him, as he had requested. As he watched from the distance, he couldn't help noticing the ways in which she and Sansa physically resembled each other. They were of similar height and had similar mannerisms, though Sansa had more delicate features and Sansa's skin was more snow-white.

Lady Catelyn finally noticed Jaime and stopped walking. "No! I will not go with you, Kingslayer. You can go ahead and kill me right here. I'll not be marched through the capitol and beheaded before the screaming masses as my husband was."

"Bring her here," Jaime ordered his men, who all but dragged her to him. "I don't plan to harm you, Lady Stark. You'll be traveling with us to Casterly Rock."

She glared at him. "I'm not going anywhere with you."

"Would you prefer to enjoy the hospitality of the Lord of the Crossing?" he asked with irritation. He took her silence as a no and gestured for her to walk beside him. He suspected she would have refused were she not shackled with ten guards escorting her.

"It seems our fortunes have reversed, my lady. Last we met, it was I who was in chains." She gave him a venomous look and Jaime forced himself to be kind, reminding himself that she was Sansa's mother. He noticed that she was deliberately lagging in her pace beside him. "Do you wish to see your brother and your daughter or not?"

She could not conceal her surprise. "Edmure's still alive? He's here?"

"Yes. As is Sansa." He could see the emotion in her eyes at the mention of her daughter's name.

"Are we all to spend the rest of our lives as your hostages, Kingslayer?"

"There are far worse alternatives for you and your brother. You could stay here. Or travel to King's Landing as a guest of my sister."

"Don't you mean your lover?" she snarled.

"Your daughter is the only woman sharing my bed."

Jaime immediately regretted his words as she visibly flinched. "So it's true then – she was forced to marry you." Jaime knew that Sansa's family would assume she was an unwilling participant in their marriage. That Sansa hated him as they did and that he forced her to share her body with him. He supposed that was best for Sansa. It would only strain her relationship with her mother if Lady Catelyn knew that Sansa had found happiness with him; that she loved him.

"Regardless of how it came about, Sansa is my lady wife. I suppose I should call you mother," he said with a smirk, unable to resist.

Catelyn Stark looked as if she wished to claw his eyes out, though the shackles on her wrists and the many guards surrounding them stopped her. "How could you? How could you marry her and…bed her? She's just a child."

"She's sixteen years old. I'll own, she's quite a bit younger than I but…I believe you were already a mother at her age."

"There's no honor in this war. No honor from you Lannisters. You killed my husband. You had my son Robb killed. And my daughter was forced into marriage with _you_. And into your bed," she said, her voice breaking at the thought.

Jaime had an impulse to tell her that Sansa rather enjoyed being in his bed, but he forbore for his wife's sake and because he heard the waver in Lady Catelyn's voice. She was clearly emotional over all that she had lost in the War of the Five Kings. "Sansa is Lady of Casterly Rock. She's not a hostage. I've not harmed her. Despite what you think of me, I've done everything in my power to see to her comfort. To make her happy," he said gently.

"Happy? Do you think she was happy to hear that her brother was slaughtered like an animal? "

"I assure you, Sansa was devastated to hear about her brother's death. It fell to me to tell her that her brother was dead. It fell to me to hold her as she cried herself to sleep." Jaime saw her eyes narrow at his mention of holding Sansa in his arms and comforting her in her grief.

"You're a monster. Your father has Robb killed and then you take the opportunity to comfort her? As if you yourself weren't the cause of her grief?" she murmured, breaking down in tears. "Is this how you've shown my daughter kindness? By manipulating her emotions?"

"I had nothing to do with your son's death. And Sansa is my wife. It is my duty to comfort her. She and I are bound together forever. You best get used to the idea." He turned and continued walking as Lady Catelyn wiped her tears and reluctantly followed him.

Jaime reached the tent where Edmure Tully was being held, having ordered that another, adjoining tent be erected for Lady Catelyn. Jaime held open the flaps of the tent and Lady Catelyn walked in. He ordered his guards to remove her shackles as he approached where it connected to Edmure's tent. "Don't get any ideas about escaping, my lady. You'll find that you and your brother are heavily guarded. If necessary, I will not hesitate to treat you as gently as I was treated when you held me prisoner. Sansa would not like me to keep you shackled, but I will if required. Are we understood?"

She nodded, rubbing her wrists. "I understand. I've seen what you're capable of. Most of my family has seen it. Not that many are left." She looked at him curiously. "Will you allow me to see my daughter?"

Jaime wanted to say no. He wanted to keep Sansa far away from her mother's hatred for him, but he knew Sansa would wish to see her mother. He nodded. "I know she wishes to see you. Are you…were you mistreated at all during your captivity?"

The anger was instantly back in her eyes. "Mistreated? They killed my son. I suppose, other than that, the Freys were most hospitable."

"I am sorry for your loss. Your son and I were on opposite sides of the war but…he should not have died as he did. He was brave and he was very young for the burdens placed on his shoulders."

"I know very well that you would have killed him yourself on the battlefield, Kingslayer. You nearly did."

"On the battlefield, yes. We're fighting a war. It's to be expected that those on the opposite side would fight to kill. There's a certain honor in that."

She advanced on him. "Honor? Was it honorable when you took my daughter for your wife? When you wed a young girl being held hostage? Separated from her family?"

"Perhaps not," Jaime said quietly. He had only married Sansa to protect her. He had never counted on falling in love with her. He knew his father wanted her claim to Winterfell, but Jaime didn't care about that. Jaime had no interest in Winterfell. "I know you won't believe it, but this marriage improved her situation. Greatly. When I put that red cloak around her shoulders, I was doing what would most protect her."

"Who did she need protecting from? From your bastard son or from the sister you commit incest with?"

Jaime only smiled in response, having no intention of discussing his relationship with Cersei. "Lord Tully, why don't you join us," he called out, holding Lady Catelyn's gaze. Edmure hesitantly entered the tent and Jaime watched as the brother and sister embraced and she began to cry in her brother's arms. Jaime realized that she had not seen him since her son was killed. Edmure must have been carted off to the Riverlands almost immediately after the Red Wedding. Edmure looked over her shoulder at Jaime.

"I thought you were bringing my lady wife here."

"I have. She's been given her own tent for the night. And she will accompany us to the Rock. She will share Sansa's carriage while we travel. Would you like to see her?"

Jaime could see that Lord Tully wanted to see his wife, but was uncertain about it. "Perhaps tomorrow."

Jaime nodded. "Very well. I'll have some dinner brought over. You should both try to get some sleep tonight. We'll leave at first light. I'm most anxious to get to the Rock."

...

Jaime returned to his tent and Sansa threw herself into his arms, hugging him tightly. Jaime wrapped his arms around her, holding her against him. "I'm glad you're back. I was afraid he would do something to you; that he would hurt you."

He lowered his head and kissed her. "Don't upset yourself, my sweet. I told you I would be fine. Nothing is going to keep me from you and our little cub."

She smiled, resting her head against his chest again. "Is my mother here?" she whispered.

"Yes. Walder Frey has turned her over to me. She'll travel with us to the rock." Jaime couldn't help worrying about Lady Catelyn being in his camp and staying at Casterly Rock. He knew that Sansa would want to see her and he had a sinking feeling that Lady Catelyn would not receive Sansa as she hoped. Jaime feared that her mother would not be kind to her.

He had tried to prepare Sansa, but now that he'd spoken to her mother, he feared her reaction would be worse than he'd thought. She hated him. And she would never accept his relationship with her daughter. She kept bringing up her disgust at his marriage to Sansa. Jaime worried what she would say to Sansa. He was afraid that Sansa would come to regret their relationship in the face of her mother's hatred and disapproval. He was afraid that Sansa would stop loving him. He kissed his little wife again, running his hand over her belly.

He had only brought Catelyn Stark to his camp because he knew it was what Sansa would want. Now, he was terrified that she would turn against him. She had come to mean so much to him and he wanted the chance to be a good father to their child. Jaime feared that Lady Catelyn would destroy that chance. How could he possibly expect Sansa to choose him over the mother she had prayed to be reunited with?

Jaime took a deep breath and held her close. _I can't lose her. Not now. I want my life with Sansa. I want this child and I want my sweet little wife._

...

_Thanks for reading!_

_Next chapter: Sansa and Catelyn are reunited._


	29. Chapter 29

_Thanks for the reviews and comments. It helps motivate me to keep writing :) Okay, so, this is a rough chapter for Sansa (and for Catelyn), but keep in mind that this isn't the end of the story..._

...

Chapter 29

After her father had been executed, Sansa's entire world had changed. And Joffrey had turned cruel – humiliating and beating her for his own amusement. She had not even been able to sleep peacefully, the fear of Joffrey coming to rape her keeping her up nights. So, she would lie awake every night and pray to be reunited with her mother; to go home to Winterfell. That fear had ended on her wedding night, when Sansa finally felt safe, knowing that no one would dare harm her as she slept in Jaime Lannister's arms.

She had not stopped praying for her mother, but the despair she'd felt – the isolation – had gone away. Jaime became someone who would protect her; someone she could count on. He showed her affection when she'd had none for months and months. At the same time, Sansa had felt guilty over her growing fondness for her husband – a man her family despised. Sansa had worried that she shouldn't love Jaime as she did, but she couldn't seem to stop herself from letting him firmly into her heart.

As she walked beside her husband, on her way to be reunited with her mother, these thoughts ran through Sansa's head. _I hope my mother understands why I love Jaime. I hope she sees all that he has done for me. _At first, Jaime had been reluctant to take her to see Lady Catelyn, suggesting that it was late, and perhaps the following day would be better. But, Sansa had worn him down as they dined and he was now escorting her to her mother's tent. She walked beside Jaime through the seemingly endless camp of his soldiers and clung to his arm, feeling more and more nervous with each step they took.

She could see that Jaime was also feeling anxious about her reunion with her mother. "I want you to be prepared, Sansa. She…she knows that you are my lady wife and she was rather upset with me about it. She does not think it was proper for me to marry you or to bed you –"

"You told her that we've…made love?" she whispered, horrified.

He chuckled, despite his anxiety. "I don't think it's wholly unexpected that I would fuck my wife." She scowled at his choice of words as he continued to address her. "I didn't tell her that we've found happiness together. I didn't tell her…how much I love you. Or that…"

"That I love you," she finished. "Despite your filthy mouth."

He smiled. "I thought it best not to say such things to her. She would…it would upset her."

"Did you tell her that I carry your child?" she whispered.

"No." Sansa could see that he was searching for words. "Sansa, I fear that you may find that your reunion is not what you had hoped for. I fear our marriage – our child - will be difficult for your mother to accept."

Sansa had never told Jaime that she had always felt some guilt over her love for him and over the pleasure she found in his arms. She never wanted him to doubt her feelings for him, so she had kept her concerns to herself. But his warnings made her even more fearful of how her mother would receive her. "But she'll see how you've protected me," she offered softly.

He didn't say anything to her in response and she could see the doubt and worry on her husband's face. "Jaime," she began hesitantly, linking her fingers through his, "Why are you so worried about me seeing my mother?" He was quiet for a long time, which made her nervous. Jaime was never quiet, unless something was bothering him. He finally met her eyes and she could see his fear.

"No one is going to come between us," she whispered. She squeezed his hand and he smiled faintly, but she could see that he was still troubled. _I wish I knew what to say to reassure him. He must know how much I love him. _Sansa had never imagined that a man like Jaime – a brave knight, the powerful Lord of the Rock, the Kingslayer – would be so fearful of losing her, but she could plainly see that he was.

When they reached her mother's heavily guarded tent, Jaime nodded to the guards, silently ordering them to move away from the entrance. "I'll wait here," he said, stroking her hair. "You and your mother can have a private reunion. Your mother…she only wishes to see you, at any rate. Not me."

He was looking at her as if he was saying goodbye to her – as if things would never be as they were once she spoke to her mother. Sansa wasn't certain what to say to comfort him, but she kissed him and hugged him tightly. "I love you," she whispered, before turning to enter the tent.

She felt him grip her shoulders, his mouth near her ear. "Perhaps…you should tell her that you wish for nothing more than to be free of this marriage. That you do not wish to share my bed. That I forced you to…that I forced myself on you."

She turned and looked at him in shock. "I can't accuse you of that."

He gently touched her cheek. "She hates me anyway…what does it matter? There's no need to cause an argument between the two of you to protect my reputation. My honor. Your relationship with your mother is more important. She wouldn't wish to hear that you care for me as you do."

Sansa was suddenly terrified of speaking to her mother. She wrapped her arms around his neck, and felt his arms around her, holding her close. "I love you, Jaime. And this child is not from…you hurting me. This child is inside me because we care for one another. Because we love each other. I won't ever say differently."

"We would know the truth."

"No. You never…_raped me_…and I won't say you did. I won't have you forced to lie about the origins of another child." She saw that she hit her mark with that comment as he silently nodded. He'd never said the words, but she knew that Cersei's refusal to allow him to claim his children hurt him. Sansa had no intention of doing anything to harm Jaime's relationship with their child. She had no intention of shrouding their love in secrecy as his love for Cersei had been.

"Everything will be fine, Jaime. She's my mother. She loves me." She kissed him quickly before turning and slowly walking into the tent. She stood in the entrance of the tent and saw her mother, sitting on the pallet in the corner of the tent. "Mother?" she whispered as she approached Lady Catelyn, resting a hand on her shoulder.

As soon as her mother turned to look at her, Sansa gave in to the urge to cry. She hadn't seen her mother since she left Winterfell, with Arya and her father, to travel to King's Landing and the sight of her mother's face immediately took her back. It seemed like a lifetime ago, rather than less than two years. Lady Catelyn was also crying as Sansa sank to her knees beside her mother and embraced her. Sansa closed her eyes as her mother held her and she could almost imagine away all of the horrible things that had happened to her. She could almost imagine that she was just a little girl at Winterfell again as she cried in her mother's arms.

"Sansa…my love." Her mother pulled back and looked her over. "You've grown into a woman since last I saw you," she said quietly, resting her hand under her chin. As her mother looked her over, Sansa was glad that she had let out the seams on her gowns, and wore a heavy wool cloak, making it impossible to detect that she was pregnant. Her belly had become even more swollen with child in only the past few days. Sansa liked touching her stomach and feeling how much her child had grown – as did Jaime – but she knew her mother would not share her happiness.

"What of Arya?" her mother whispered. "Do you know where she is?"

Sansa shook her head, wiping away her tears. "She escaped when the queen took father captive. I haven't seen her since that day…I tried to help father," she said, her voice breaking. "I did, I swear, mother, I did. I begged Joffrey to show him mercy and he said he would but…then he…he killed him right in front of me." Sansa dissolved into tears again as her mother held her, gently stroking her hair. "I never thought I would see you again, mother. I thought that I would die there, in King's Landing."

"I've thought of you often, Sansa. I've prayed for your safety every day. Has the Kingslayer hurt you?" she asked in a low voice.

Sansa tensed at her mother's question, unsure of how to respond – unsure of how much to tell her mother. "He has not hurt me, mother. He's…he's treated me well." She wiped her tears and met her mother's eyes. "Jaime has been very kind to me and he has seen to my comfort."

"Has he?" she said sharply and Sansa winced at her hostility. "He did not spare your maidenhood. That would have been kind. I had thought perhaps his relationship with his sister would stop him from consummating the marriage." Sansa looked down at her hands, wishing her mother had not brought up Jaime's relationship with the queen. "I suppose it was a foolish thought. Tywin Lannister knew better than to allow a…wartime marriage, such as this, to go unconsummated. He knew what a defeat it would be to our family if his son got a child on you. He hasn't been…harsh with you, in the bedchamber, has he?"

Sansa felt her face heat. "No, mother. Jaime has always been…gentle with me. And very patient. He wouldn't hurt me."

"But the Kingslayer continues to share your bed, doesn't he?" Sansa didn't tell her mother that she would not wish to sleep separately from her husband. She certainly didn't dare tell her mother how safe she felt in Jaime's arms nor how much pleasure he brought her in their bed.

"It…Mother, Jaime is my lord husband and…it is expected…it is my duty to provide him with an heir. You've always told me that I must be loyal to my husband and to my family. And Jaime…he is part of my family now."

Sansa watched as her mother's expression became a queer combination of rage and sadness. "This is not the type of marriage that I spoke of. We'll get our freedom back, I promise you, my love," her mother said urgently. "And when the war is over, we can have this marriage set aside." She wanted to tell her mother that she didn't want to have her marriage to Jaime set aside, but she held her tongue. "Do you know what to do?" her mother whispered seriously.

"What do you mean?"

Her mother's eyes flickered towards the entrance to her tent before she addressed Sansa in a low whisper. "You mustn't allow his seed to take root in you. You must not give him an heir or you will be chained to the Lannisters forever. Does he give you enough freedom that you could get some moon tea?"

Sansa gasped, thinking of what Lady Sybell had done to Robb's queen, her hand instinctively covering her stomach. Her mother noticed her movement and opened her cloak, looking at her carefully. "You already carry the Kingslayer's child, don't you?"

"Yes," she whispered.

Her mother could not conceal the sadness and disappointment in her voice. "I suppose you have been sharing his bed for many months…The Lannisters have not fought this war honorably. You're so young, Sansa. And you were their hostage. They should not have done this. For the Kingslayer to force you to..." Her mother trailed off, overcome with emotion.

Sansa decided she had to make her mother stop thinking Jaime had raped her. "Mother, please, don't think that –"

"Well, the Lannisters will learn this marriage – this heir - was for naught."

"What do you mean?" Sansa asked curiously.

"Robb and I made certain you were disinherited as his heir when we received word of your marriage to the Kingslayer. The Lannisters shall not get their hands on Winterfell."

"Disinherited? _That_ is what you thought to do when you heard I had been married to Jaime? You didn't think to help me? To get me away from Kings Landing? You only thought of disinheriting me?"

"I know you don't understand the politics of it, but we could not allow the Kingslayer's child to rule Winterfell."

_But Jaime's child…is my child. _Sansa realized that her mother saw the baby growing inside of her as an enemy. Sansa felt her eyes fill with tears.

"Don't cry, my love. Sansa, if your brother could have helped you, he would have." Sansa stared down at her hands as her mother took her back into her arms.

"What do you mean _if _he could have helped me? Jaime was his prisoner for months and months. He could have traded him for me."

Her mother took her hands. "He couldn't. He had to think of the war. As much as it hurt, he had to put aside what he wanted, to do what was best for the North."

"Family, Duty, Honor, mother," Sansa mumbled quietly. "Those are your words. Family comes first." Sansa couldn't get over her disappointment at what her family had decided to do when they heard she was married to Jaime. Or what her mother's feelings were for her child. Sansa couldn't help thinking that all of her months waiting and praying for them to save her was for nothing. And it hurt.

"What did he say to turn you against me? Against your brother?" her mother asks sharply.

"I've not turned against you, mother. But…Jaime has been very kind to me. He's protected me."

"Kind? Do you know what the Lannisters are capable of? Did _your husband_ tell you how your brother died? I was there. I saw it. I was there when the singers began to play their Lannister song and the crossbows came out. I was there when the Freys began killing the great lords of the north, spilling their blood all over the ground. I was there when a sword was driven through your brother's chest…when his head was cut off and Grey Wind's head was sewn on in its place. You say he's kind to you; that he protects you, but that is who he really is. That's what's in his blood."

"Not another word!" Sansa heard Jaime's voice as she pulled away from her mother in horror, and understood why Jaime had refused to tell her the details of the Red Wedding.

"Cat, you shouldn't say such things to her." She looked up and heard her uncle's sharp rebuke of her mother. He'd obviously been listening, as had Jaime.

Sansa couldn't get the images of her brother's death out of her head as she began to cry and she felt Jaime behind her. "That's enough for tonight, Sansa," he whispered in his ear, as she immediately reached for his hand and moved closer to him. Sansa saw both Edmure and her mother notice her seek comfort from Jaime.

"You go to his bed willingly, don't you?" her mother asked quietly, though Sansa heard the accusation in her tone.

"I owe him my life, mother," she managed through her tears. "Do you understand? I would be dead if it weren't for him. Do you know that Joffrey had the Kingsguard strip me naked and beat me every time you and Robb were celebrating a victory? And Jaime made it stop. He saved me." She felt Jaime's hand on her shoulder, trying to get her to leave the tent, but she couldn't stop herself. "I was prepared to die in King's Landing until Jaime came back to the capitol. I don't care what you think of him – I don't care what he's done in the past. He saved me."

Jaime held her as she clung to him, burying her face against his chest as she cried. She was aware of his quiet whispers in her ear, trying to calm her, but she didn't hear what he was saying. She was too consumed by her own thoughts. _It wasn't supposed to be like this. Mother was supposed to hold me and tell me she loves me. She was supposed to be grateful to have her daughter safe in her arms. Why isn't she glad Jaime protected me?_

"What did you do to her, Kingslayer? What did you do to turn her against her family?"

Sansa turned to face her mother as she questioned Jaime, clearly furious to see her daughter seek comfort in his arms. "He loves me, mother," Sansa said quietly. "And I love him."

"Then you are not my daughter," she said coldly.

"Cat!" Sansa could see that Edmure was surprised both by Sansa's words and her mother's reaction.

"We're done here," Jaime said, with barely controlled rage, lifting Sansa into his arms and carrying her back to their tent.

...

Jaime sat on their bed, still holding her in his arms. He'd carried her the entire way, never releasing his hold on her. Sansa buried her face against her husband's neck, as he held her on his lap, afraid to let go of him, as she cried.

_You are not my daughter._ _You are not my daughter._ _You are not my daughter._

The words kept echoing in Sansa's head as Jaime held her, threading his fingers through her hair. She knew her mother would be unhappy with her relationship with Jaime, but she never dreamed her mother would utter those words.

_You are not my daughter._

"Please try to calm yourself, my sweet," Jaime murmured in her ear, trying to stop her tears. "It's going to be all right. She didn't mean it." He smoothed his hand over her hair and kissed her cheek. "I don't believe that your brother had any idea how Joffrey was treating you, sweet girl. They didn't know how much you needed their help. Your mother…she's been through a lot, she's lost a lot, as have you and –"

Sansa started to shake her head, turning her eyes up to his face. "She'll never forgive me for falling in love with you."

_You are not my daughter._

She saw his expression darken as he continued to absently stroke her hair. "I'm sorry that I've cost you what's left of your family, Sansa. You know I would never wish to hurt you."

Sansa saw such pain in his eyes. _He thinks I blame him. He thinks I'm going to stop loving him. He doesn't understand how important he is to me._ As much as she hated to think about his relationship with Cersei, she knew that he had repeatedly asked her to leave King's Landing with him so they could be together, but she would never choose him over the Iron Throne.

"You have not hurt me, Jaime. And I don't blame you for her anger. For what she said." She rested her palm against the back of his neck. "You must know that I won't stop loving you. And if I'm forced to choose, I choose you," she whispered.

She could see he was surprised by her words. _No one has ever chosen him. No one has ever put him first. _"How can you say that when it makes you so unhappy? You've wished to have your family back for so long –"

She covered his lips with her fingers. "And now you are my family. If my mother refuses a place in my family…" She rested her hand over his, on her belly. "I know you want me and I know you want to be a father to our child. That's what I want. I want you," she whispered. "I don't regret you." She kissed him lightly and he returned her kiss in full measure. "After my father was killed…I had to survive on my own. And then you returned to King's Landing. And I wasn't alone anymore. Perhaps it's weak of me but…I wanted to be protected. I wanted to be held and made to feel safe. I wanted to be loved. And you gave me all that I needed and wanted." She cuddled against him even closer.

"I do love you, sweet girl. I don't like seeing you so unhappy."

"Do you remember…when Tyrion was freed…you asked me to promise never to leave you?" she whispered as she rested her head against his chest.

"I remember."

_You are not my daughter._

"I meant it when I promised to never leave you. No one will ever separate us. I will always choose you. You are my husband." She choked back a sob. "You won't ever leave me, will you? You won't ever hate me as my mother does?"

"You're stuck with me, my lady. As long as you want me, I'm yours," he said with a smile, kissing her long and slow, as his hand drifted back to her stomach.

She leaned her head against his chest again as Jaime gently rubbed her belly. "I love you, too, Jaime," she whispered. "And I love our baby. How can my mother think that's wrong?"

"She's not thinking clearly, my sweet. She didn't mean what she said. She's still grieving for your brother and…she's lost quite a lot in this war. Because of my family. She's lost her husband. Several of her children. She's still your mother and she loves you." He kissed her temple and held her. Sansa forced herself not to think about what her mother told her had happened to Robb. It was too horrifying for her to contemplate. She traced her fingers over his face as she cuddled in his arms.

Jaime rested his head against hers as he held her. She tilted her head up and kissed him. Jaime returned her kiss and she tangled her fingers in his hair.

_You are not my daughter._

She wanted the words to stop. She wanted comfort and safety. She always felt the safest in Jaime's arms, as he made love to her. Sansa closed her eyes as Jaime kissed away her tears. "I love you, Sansa," he whispered against her skin. "I'll always love you." She opened her eyes and tried not to cry when she saw how much he cared for and loved her. She was tired of feeling guilty for loving Jaime and finding happiness with him. _I deserve to be happy, after everything that happened to me in Kings Landing. I deserve to be loved. _

Sansa pulled Jaime toward her, pressing her lips against his. She felt his hand slide to her waist, pulling her against him as she continued to kiss him. She slipped her hand inside his tunic as they continued to kiss. "I love you," she murmured between kisses. "So much, Jaime." She started pulling at his clothes and he broke the kiss, raising an eyebrow.

"Aren't you worried about the thin walls of the tent, my lady?" he asked teasingly, making her smile despite herself.

She looked down. "We'll have to be quiet."

He smirked, nuzzling her neck. He seemed to know that she needed comfort from him. She slowly removed Jaime's clothes as he removed hers, pulling her onto his lap as she clung to him, feeling the warmth of his body against hers. He simply held her for a long time, her face buried against his neck as she tried not to cry, and he gently rubbed his hand over her back. Then, Jaime gently lowered her onto the bed and covered her body with his own. She closed her eyes, concentrating on what she felt as Jaime comforted her with his body and on the loving words he murmured in her ears.

...

Sansa woke up while it was still dark out, alone and naked beneath a pile of furs. She heard voices outside the tent and she could make out Jaime's voice, but not what he was saying. She dressed quickly to see what was going on.

Sansa stuck her head outside the tent, and saw that several of Jaime's soldiers were there, having captured three people, from the looks of it. _They must be _outlaws, Sansa thought, taking in their dirty appearances. Her eyes focused on the smallest one, with a Lannister soldier on either side of her, holding her arms as she struggled.

"Arya?"

...

_Okay, so, my thinking in this chapter was not to make Catelyn a bad mother or a bad person, but to recognize the trauma that she went through watching her son die. That is going to mess with her head (on top of already losing Ned, Bran and Rickon) so expecting her to behave reasonably is not realistic. She's in a state of mind now where she hates all things Lannister, and she would expect the same from her daughter. She's not going to openly embrace Sansa's marriage or the child she's carrying at this point in the story. (But there's plenty more to come...)_

_Obviously, the teaser for the next chapter was included as part of this chapter. We'll go slightly backwards in the next chapter to Jaime meeting Arya before Sansa wakes up._


	30. Chapter 30

_Thanks for all of the reviews on the last chapter - it was a difficult one to write, trying to get Catelyn's reaction to Jaime & Sansa's marriage to be in character._

_After all of the drama in the last chapter, this one is a little lighter. (Obviously, I'm not exactly following Arya's path from the books, since she's found her way to her sister. I'm trying to write her a little less dark than she is in the later books.) _

….

Chapter 30

Jaime was sleeping peacefully, with Sansa in his arms, when he heard his name and felt a hand on his shoulder. He opened his eyes and saw Ser Addam Marbrand, who gestured for Jaime to follow him out of the makeshift bedchamber, all the while averting his eyes from Sansa's naked body wrapped around Jaime's. He knew Ser Addam would never wake him if it weren't urgent. He carefully disentangled himself from Sansa's arms and legs, and pulled the furs to her neck. He kissed her gently on the forehead, before pulling on his breeches and walking over to Ser Addam.

"Forgive me for disturbing you, Jaime," he said, in a whisper, "but we've found three intruders. It appears as if they were trying to get to Lord Tully and Lady Stark."

Jaime nodded, grabbing his boots and his tunic, and followed his second-in-command outside the tent. It was nearly daybreak and the three intruders that confronted him were hardly what he'd expected. They were all three filthy and it appeared they had been living out of doors for quite some time. The oldest was scarcely more than a boy, though he appeared to have some strength and muscle to him; the second was a pudgy boy who looked about to wet himself at the sight of the Lord of the Rock; and the littlest was a skinny thing, appearing to be around ten years of age. The youngest, smallest one was fighting the hardest of the three for freedom from Jaime's men.

"What brings you to my camp?" Jaime asked, addressing his question to the eldest. They clearly weren't affiliated with either of the remaining kings challenging Tommen, but Jaime knew there were quite a few bands of outlaws forming in and around the Riverlands. Several of these outlaws were loyal to Robb Stark, despite his death, and would be quite eager to free Edmure Tully and Catelyn Stark. Though, their youth made it unlikely that they were any true threat.

The eldest flicked his blue eyes towards the littlest one, who answered Jaime with a question. "Where are you taking Lady Stark, Kingslayer?"

He smiled, approaching the fierce little thing. "It seems I'm at a disadvantage. You know who I am, but I don't know who you are."

"It doesn't matter who I am," the child said defiantly.

Jaime looked at the child carefully and realized she was a little girl, not a little boy. Her hair was cut short, and she was wearing breeches and a tunic, but her features were decidedly female. "Why are you dressed as a boy?" Jaime asked.

Her grey eyes widened. "I am a boy."

Jaime rolled his eyes. "You certainly are not. I suppose it's easy enough to prove which of us is correct. Should you like to strip down right here and settle the matter?"

She hardened her jaw and looked at him with utter hatred. "It's safer to travel as a boy, in times of war."

"I suppose that's true. Very astute. What is your name…my lady?"

He could see that she was preparing to lie, as she thought about what name to give him. "Weasel."

"Must you try my patience? Your true name?"

Before the child could lie to him yet again, Jaime heard Sansa's shocked whisper from behind him. "Arya?"

He looked at Sansa, who must have wakened at the sound of their voices, then back at the little creature in front of him. She didn't resemble Sansa in the slightest. The younger Stark girl had been far beneath his notice during the royal visit to Winterfell last year – except when her wolf had bit Joffrey and Cersei had begged him to cut off the child's hand in punishment. Now that he looked closely at the child, he could see the resemblance to Ned Stark in the little girl's features. _It seems I've found my missing little good-sister._

Sansa had tearfully told him months ago that she feared her sister must be dead – just as her brothers were. She had leaned against his chest and cried as she told him that she and her little sister were barely speaking to one another because of some quarrel when last she saw her. She regretted not being able to make amends. Jaime had held and cuddled her as she despaired that her only remaining sibling was at the Wall – Ned Stark's bastard son. He knew how much Sansa missed being part of a family. How much she missed the safety and comfort of her childhood home and her parents and siblings.

As he watched the child struggle to get free of his soldiers, he felt Sansa stand next to him and clutch his hand. The little girl stopped struggling with his guards and focused on her sister, standing beside Jaime. Her mouth dropped open and the tears that formed in the child's eyes as she looked at Sansa confirmed her identity as Arya Stark.

The little girl resumed struggling against his men, trying to get to Sansa, though they held onto her until Jaime signaled for them to release her. She immediately ran towards her sister, wrapping her arms around her waist. Sansa seemed surprised by the show of affection and her eyes filled with tears as well. Jaime smiled to himself. _After her reunion with her mother, she could use some affection from a family member. _He hoped the child would be kinder to Sansa than Lady Stark had gently smoothed his hand over his wife's hair as she hugged her sister and he could hear the little girl whispering to Sansa.

"I didn't know the Lannisters had you here, too. I saw them take mother from the Twins yesterday."

"How did you escape King's Landing?" Jaime asked. He recalled that his father had been furious that a nine-year-old girl had managed to elude Cersei, when she had taken Ned Stark into custody for treason.

Arya glared at Jaime, and though she answered his question, she spoke only to Sansa. The child told a lengthy tale of escaping through the dungeons and living in squalor in Flea Bottom until she heard that Ned Stark was being taken to the Great Sept. Arya offered Jaime another hate-filled glance, before telling Sansa that she was there when their father was executed. That she saw Sansa standing on the steps as their father was made to kneel down while Ser Ilyn swung his sword. He could see that the girl was loath to show any emotion in front of him, but it was apparent that the loss of her father had affected her. Perhaps even more than it had affected Sansa.

Once she regained control of her grief, Arya described how a man of the Night's Watch had proposed to take her to the Wall, in order to reunite her with her bastard brother. It had been his idea to disguise her as a boy in order to get her out of the city safely. She met the two boys she was traveling with on her trip to the Wall, before being taken captive by Lannister soldiers.

"When we escaped from the Lannisters, I started trying to find Robb and I heard that he would be at the Twins…for the…wedding."

"Were you inside? Did you see…what happened to Robb?" Sansa whispered and Jaime rested his hand on her shoulder as her voice cracked with emotion.

Arya shook her head. "My friend saw what they were doing and…he wouldn't let me go in, no matter how much I struggled." Jaime looked at the black-haired boy and could see that he had some affection for the child. _It looks as if Sansa wasn't the only Stark girl able to find someone to protect her in this war. _"I saw they had mother and we…we were trying to think of a way to free her. But, there are only three of us and the walls of the Twins were so high..."

Jaime was rather impressed that the child and her companions had managed to stay hidden from the Freys for so long. It seemed that Arya Stark was a survivor. Just like her sister. "You've been here all this time? Prowling around the Twins?" Jaime asked, ignoring her hostility. "How have you survived?"

"I'm a Northerner. I know how to hunt," she said as if he were a simpleton. He wanted to point out that her sister was also a Northerner, and she certainly couldn't hunt, but he refrained. "I've been looking for my family since I left King's Landing. I couldn't leave when I was so close to mother." She looked up at her sister. "I was going to look for you, too. I heard about…Bran and Rickon," she said, tears filling her eyes and Sansa hugged her little sister.

Sansa took his hand, looking up at him with blue eyes glistening with tears. "We'll bring her to Casterly Rock with us, won't we, Jaime?"

"I'm not going anywhere with him," she spoke up angrily, before Jaime could respond.

"Shut up," Sansa whispered.

Jaime fought the smile that was playing at his lips. It seemed as though their emotional reunion was over. "Of course, your sister will come with us to the Rock," he said, bringing her hand to his mouth.

The child opened her mouth to object, but Sansa cut her off. "Mother and I are going to Casterly Rock with Jaime. And…we're the only Starks left. You're coming with us whether you like it or not. Do you remember what father used to say? The lone wolf dies, but the pack survives. You're coming with us. We should all be together. We're family."

He watched as the child looked between he and Sansa, focusing on their joined hands. "You came out of his tent. It's true, isn't it? I heard you had married the Kingslayer but I didn't believe it."

"He is my husband. And you'll call him Ser Jaime."

"Or brother, whichever you prefer," he said with a smirk. Both girls rewarded him with a glare. "Tell me, little sister, who do you travel with?"

"None of your business." He watched as Sansa pinched her for her insolence, and whispered for the child to be polite. "Let my friends go! They haven't done anything wrong."

"No? I understand the three of you were attempting to get to my prisoners. To free them?" She merely stared at the ground, as if Jaime had not uttered a word. "Who are your friends?"

"Why do you need their names?"

"Arya, answer his question," Sansa said in annoyance. Jaime could have easily asked the boys themselves for their names, but he wanted to gauge how difficult Sansa's sister would be to control on their journey, and once they reached Casterly Rock.

"Hot Pie," she whispered.

"Excuse me?" Jaime asked with a raised eyebrow.

"That's the only name I know him by."

"I take it that's the name of the rather…round boy with you?"

She nodded.

"And the other? His name?"

"I'm not telling you his name. I don't care what you do to me."

She was so resolved in her refusal to give the name of the older boy that Jaime knew there had to be a reason beyond mere willfulness. "Is he wanted?"

Her eyes widened and the boy answered for her. "My name's Gendry, m'lord," the boy said. "Gendry Waters."

"Don't hurt him," Arya said in a small voice.

"What did he do?"

She looked up at Sansa. "The queen," she whispered. "The queen wants him. I don't know why, and he doesn't either. I swear it. It was right after we left King's Landing…Lannister soldiers came looking for him. For the queen."

Jaime looked at the boy, taking in his features. He strongly resembled Renly Baratheon and King Robert in his younger days. He recalled Tyrion telling him about Cersei ordering the murder of all of Robert Baratheon's baseborn children. Babes were ripped from their mother's arms and slaughtered on his sister's orders. It was one of Cersei's most vicious moments; her desperation to hold onto the throne clouding her judgment. Jaime had little doubt as to the parentage of Arya Stark's companion. _He's one of Robert's bastards_.

The boy was brave, Jaime had to give him that. He had to know that he was risking death by giving his name to Jaime Lannister, if there truly was a royal warrant out for him.

"Gendry's a smith. He could be of use to you. He could make you swords or armor," Arya said urgently, tugging at Jaime's arm. He saw her eyes flicker curiously to his golden hand. "You won't kill him, will you? Or allow the queen to? He can be of use to you." Jaime sighed, meeting his wife's eyes as the child continued to make her case. "And Hot Pie…" she turned to Sansa. "His mother was a baker and he knows how to bake, too. He could make you lemon cakes. They were always your favorite."

Jaime chuckled at the child's sales pitch before addressing the boys, focusing first on the one she called "Hot Pie." He seemed even more terrified than he had been when Jaime first emerged from his tent. The boy was clearly no threat to Sansa and certainly wasn't capable of liberating any prisoners on his own. "If you try to escape, the penalty is death, do you understand?" He nodded fearfully and Jaime ordered him escorted to the wagons used by the cooks traveling with him.

He then turned his attention to Robert Baratheon's bastard. Given his own betrayal of the King, Jaime knew that the prudent thing would be to kill him right there, in case the boy got it in his head to seek vengeance. But he knew it would upset Sansa. And likely cement her sister's dislike for him. "Gendry, is it?"

The boy nodded. "Yes, m'lord."

"You're a smith, are you?" He nodded again. "Would you like to come with us to Casterly Rock?"

He shrugged. "I don't know much about the place, m'lord."

"Do you have anywhere else to go?"

"No. My mother's dead. And I never knew my father."

"Then I suppose it would be preferable to have somewhere to go, with your…friends, rather than wandering the realm aimlessly during times of war?"

"It would, m'lord," he said reluctantly.

"Is there any reason I should be concerned about my wife's safety if you're allowed to accompany us?"

"He wouldn't hurt my sister!" the little girl insisted.

"I'm asking him."

Gendry glanced over at Sansa before returning his gaze to Jaime. "I wouldn't hurt Lady Lannister. Just as I wouldn't hurt Lady Arya."

He heard the little girl huff. "Don't call me that, Gendry."

"It's your name," Sansa hissed at her. "He's being polite. You may not look it, or act like it, but you are a lady."

"I've seen him piss – I've seen his cock, he shouldn't have to call me that."

Jaime was worried for a moment that Sansa was going to faint dead away at her sister's words. "I may not be the best person to lecture others on propriety, little sister," Jaime said as he approached the child, "But you will conduct yourself appropriately, do you understand me? You'll not shame your sister by acting as an unruly heathen. I expect your mother would be horrified by your words as well."

She rolled her eyes as Sansa hissed at her never to use that word. "What word? Cock?"

"Shut up!"

Gendry looked at him fearfully, even as Jaime was struggling not to laugh. He seemed to think Jaime was going to cut his head off right there for behaving inappropriately with Arya Stark. "I didn't know she was a girl then, Lord and Lady Lannister. I thought she was a boy. I swear it."

Jaime smirked to himself and saw that Arya just realized she may have said something to get Gendry in trouble. "He didn't know. He was upset when he found out I was a girl and had…seen things you would think I should not have."

He walked toward the boy and spoke to him in a low voice. "Does the queen still search for you?"

He shook his head. "Another boy who was traveling to join the watch was killed and…Lady Arya told the red coats he was Gendry." Jaime glanced back at Arya and smiled at her resourcefulness.

"Try not to draw attention to yourself, Gendry. I have no plans to notify my sister of your existence. Do you know why she wanted you?"

He shook his head. "I've never done anything," he said sincerely.

Jaime studied him for a moment and believed that the boy had no idea why Cersei wanted him dead – that he had no idea that he was King Robert Baratheon's bastard son. It was obvious that the Stark girl was fond of this boy. _Perhaps she'll be less difficult if her friends are allowed to accompany her to the Rock. And more inclined to show affection for her sister if I do this for her – if I show that I'm not the enemy._

"Ser Addam, will you take young Gendry and see to it that he is outfitted with a horse for our ride to the Rock?" Jaime watched as the boy was escorted away and then turned to consider his wife and her sister. The little girl was looking at him suspiciously. "I could send you to King's Landing and allow my sister to deal with you. I have no doubt she'd be grateful to have you."

"Why?"

He shrugged. "She could likely marry you off to some family she needs as an ally in this war. I don't expect that you would enjoy being the wife of some newly anointed lord."

"You said I could go with my sister."

"I did. And you may. Provided you behave. I'll not have you running off, trying to free prisoners, or causing any trouble, are we understood?"

She glared at him stubbornly and Sansa gripped her arm, leaning forward. "Answer him," she whispered. "You may not realize it, but he's doing you a kindness."

"He's doing it for you, not me," she said bitterly before looking at Jaime. "I won't run."

"And you'll behave," Sansa prompted.

"I'll behave," she mumbled.

"You needn't act as if you're being taken to your death, little sister." She looked up at him, curious as to what he had to say, though clearly irritated by how he addressed her. "You're not alone – you're with your family. You'll have your friends. And from what your sister has told me about you, I expect you'll enjoy living at the Rock." Jaime looked at Sansa and saw her grateful smile. "What shall we do with her now?"

"She needs a bath and clean clothes," Sansa said, wrinkling the nose at the smell of her little sister, and picking at her short hair with distaste. He smiled as she dragged Arya into their tent, while calling for Pia to prepare a hot bath. Sansa was so timid sometimes and so afraid to cause offense. She had been so beaten down by Joffrey and Cersei's bullying, and it pleased him to see her confidence in the face of her insolent little sister. He supposed Sansa could use the distraction. Mothering her little sister should give her something to do other than think about her mother's rejection.

Jaime sighed and shook his head. _How did I end up surrounded by Starks and Tullys?_

…..

_Next Chapter: Sansa and Arya have a sisterly chat…_


	31. Chapter 31

_Thanks again to all of you for reading, and for the comments and reviews. It helps motivate the writing;) _

_To answer one question brought up in the reviews: Sansa is almost seventeen years old and Arya is ten; Jaime is the same age as in the books, which I estimated to be 35ish._

...

Chapter 31

While Sansa tended to her sister, Jaime walked over to the area of his camp where the heavily-guarded Northmen were being held, awaiting transportation to Riverrun. He had thought about it long and hard after Sansa had fallen asleep the night before, and Jaime knew that he had to do something to secure Winterfell for her. After seeing the hostility Lady Catelyn expressed towards her daughter because of their marriage, he expected the Northern men would be even harsher to Sansa if he did not take matters well in hand.

Jaime had loved Cersei for most of his life. He'd given up everything for her, and she had never once chosen him. Cersei had never risked anything to be able to love him openly. It had never occurred to him that Sansa would do any differently. He had expected her to hide their love in the shadows to stay in her family's good graces. He had expected that he would have to love her and their child in secret – as he'd always done with Cersei. Sansa had stunned him when she refused to conceal her affection for him; when she refused to say that the child she carried was conceived in anything but love.

She was so important to him and had given him so much. He was determined to give her something in return. There was little he could do to make up for what his family had taken from her, but he could try to give her back a little bit of her past. He could give her Winterfell. It was her birthright, no matter what Robb Stark had done before his death in an attempt to prevent Sansa from inheriting. Jaime would ensure that Tommen signed the papers necessary to reinstate Sansa as Lady of Winterfell. Though he knew it would take more than a royal decree for Winterfell – and the North – to truly be hers. She would need the support of the Northern lords.

As he approached the prisoners, Jaime could feel the hatred of the Northern men who were once his captors. Truth be told, he had expected far more prisoners would be turned over to him, but it appeared that the Lord of the Crossing had massacred thousands, as only fifty men remained of all of Robb Stark's army. Jaime had been informed that they were in poor condition, many of them injured and malnourished. He had made sure their injuries were cared for and that they were fed.

"Kingslayer?" Greatjon Umber snarled at his approach. "I had hoped the next time I saw you, you'd be a tarred head decorating the Red Keep alongside your sister and your bastards."

"I'm sorry to disappoint you, Lord Umber. I have no intention of losing my head. Perhaps if so many of you Northerners had not been out whoring with Edmure Tully back at Riverrun, I'd still be in your custody."

"The Kingslayer may have his head," another man shouted to the others. "But the Lion is missing a paw."

The Greatjon looked at his golden hand with amusement. "What do you do with that? You certainly can't swing a sword. Only thing you were good at. That and fucking your sister." Jaime should have known this hostility would await him. If it weren't for Sansa, he wouldn't even be making the effort. They would all be rotting in Lord Walder's dungeons.

"Are you interested in returning to Walder Frey's dungeons, my lord?" Jaime asked with a raised eyebrow. "I'm certain that could be arranged if this attitude persists."

"I expect the Twins would be a bloody picnic compared King's Landing. That _is_ where you're taking us? So you Lannisters can celebrate murdering our King in violation of the sacred guest right. Go ahead and execute us all. It won't matter. Whatever you may think, Kingslayer, the North doesn't forget. Every Northerner who survives us will remember this and will remember the treachery of the Freys and Lannisters."

"I had no part in the Robb Stark's death."

"Yet you happily take us from that traitor Walder Frey as your prisoners."

Jaime had no doubt that the northern lord spoke the truth. Walder Frey cared for nothing but himself. Should Stannis Baratheon offer him enough money, he'd hand Jaime over to him in a second. Though Jaime had no intention of taking the blame for the Red Wedding. That was his father's work, not his. "Perhaps if your king had not proven so faithless in his promises, you'd all be free right now."

"How dare you speak of our king that way!"

"Wasn't our King desecrated enough by the Freys?"

"After the treasons you have committed, Kingslayer, you would dare judge King Robb?"

The Northerners were a loyal bunch, he had to give them that. Even after their King was dead, they would likely continue to fight in his name. Which meant they could not be set free. "I don't deny Robb Stark's bravery. Nor his success in battle. It's a pity that a war won on the battlefield was lost in the bedchamber. Marrying the Westerling girl cost your king this war. And his life. Surely the lot of you knew his choice of queen was a misstep." From the set of Lord Umber's jaw, Jaime knew he was correct.

"From what I hear, King Robb was not the only Stark child to marry unwisely. We heard about your marriage to Sansa Stark. Though, I suppose she didn't have a choice in the matter. Yet another way to conquer the North, Kingslayer? Forcing Ned Stark's daughter to lie on her back for you?"

"If any of you ever disrespect my wife with such words again, Ser Ilyn will separate your heard from your shoulders. My lady wife is a Stark. No matter who she is married to, she is Ned Stark's daughter. She descends from kings. You will show her the proper respect. And you will never speak about her in such a manner again. It is Lady Sansa who you have to thank for your liberation from Walder Frey's dungeons." Jaime advanced on the Northerners. "She is heir to Winterfell. From what I understand of your Northern traditions, you are now her bannermen."

The Greatjon seemed to regret his disrespectful words about Sansa, but his hatred for Jaime did not dissipate. "King Robb removed her as his heir."

"And King Tommen will restore her. She _is_ Lady of Winterfell. And her second son will inherit it. Do you think Ned Stark would wish to see his eldest daughter turned away from her home? Because of a marriage she did not ask for?" The men were silent, perhaps reconsidering condemning Sansa for her forced marriage to Jaime. "Robb Stark may have been angry with me – with my family – over the marriage to his sister, but that's no reason to take it out on her. To disinherit her."

"Your lady wife may be a Northerner, she may inherit Winterfell, but if you think that anyone with Lannister blood will rule the North, you're quite mistaken. That includes your children."

"My children will also be Sansa's children. They will be of the North, as she is. I have a proposal for all of you. I expect you've heard what the Ironborn did to Winterfell. That it's nothing but a ruin – burned to the ground. I plan to restore it, once the fighting is done. For my lady wife. I can't release any of you now but…once I find a suitable person to oversee the rebuilding of Winterfell, I will release those of you who are willing to assist with the rebuilding. Those of you who will bend the knee to Sansa…who will rebuild the North - may have your freedom. I don't ask you to bend the knee to me. Only to her."

Some of the men seemed interested in his offer. As well they should, as they'd likely be killed or spend a lifetime as a hostage otherwise. "Where do you send us until then?" the Greatjon asked curiously.

"The only living Starks will be at the Rock. There are two living Stark children – both Sansa and Arya Stark will be living at Casterly Rock. As will Lady Catelyn. I'll leave it to you. You can be a prisoner at Riverrun or at the Rock. At Riverrun, you'll be at the mercy of Walder Frey's son. Any of you who are not interested in traveling with me – who would prefer Riverrun - may line up over there," Jaime said, indicating his soldiers who would take any of them to Riverrun who wished to go.

Though his face betrayed nothing, Jaime worried that they would all leave and that one day, he and Sansa would be forced to fight for their son's right to rule Winterfell and the North. Mercifully, no one took Jaime up on his offer to leave. He was not such a fool as to think they stayed due to him. They stayed for Sansa and Arya; they stayed for Ned Stark and Lady Catelyn; they stayed out of loyalty to their dead King Robb. _At least the Stark honor is worth something._

...

Sansa sat beside the bathtub, watching as Pia helped scrub what she suspected were months of grime off of her little sister, turning the water nearly black. Her sister had always been slight, but she seemed to be even skinnier since Sansa had last seen her. Her hair was short and scraggly and her clothes had been tattered rags which Sansa had ordered burned, over her sister's objection.

She could scarce believe that Arya was there with her. Sansa had been certain that her sister must have died, since there had been no trace of her in over a year. She had been shocked at the tears in her sister's eyes and when she fiercely embraced her. She'd never seen Arya cry. And her sister had never been close to her and had never shown her much affection. Sansa had realized during the past year that she did miss her little sister and she could scarce believe it when Arya was standing before her. Of course, their reunion had only been emotional for a few moments before her little sister was her usual improper, willful self.

She reached for her sister's hand, a nail brush in her other hand. "What's that for?" Arya asked as Sansa scrubbed at her fingertips.

"That's for the filth under your fingernails," Sansa said in disgust. "Have you been digging in the mud with your bare hands?"

Arya looked at her in annoyance before pulling her hand away. "You don't need to scrub under my nails. It will just get dirty again. You don't braid your hair like the queen anymore," Arya said, looking at her sister.

She shook her head. "I don't like it that way." Once Jaime returned to the capitol, Sansa had abandoned all efforts to look like the queen. She came to despise the elaborate braids that Cersei preferred and encouraged her to wear as Joffrey's betrothed. Instead, Sansa wore her hair down, as she did in Winterfell, with only a few long braids, or a headband, to hold her hair out of her face. Jaime had noticed and given her several headbands – one wrapped in gold and silver ribbons, and another with polished moonstones forming clusters of flowers. He never said anything. They had simply appeared in the drawers of her dressing table.

Sansa thought about when she and Arya were last together – when their last words were words of anger. She was ashamed of herself for failing to stand up for her sister against Joffrey and the Queen. She knew that Lady's death was her punishment – though it was not intended that way. The last days she spent with her father and sister had haunted her for the past year. Sansa hated herself when she thought about how ridiculous she had been as Joffrey's betrothed. How horrible she had been to her family.

"I'm sorry," Sansa mumbled quietly once Pia left the tent to find clothing small enough to fit Arya. Some of Jaime's men were returning to Casterly Rock with their families in tow, and Pia believed she could find clothing for her among the children's belongings. "I'm sorry for Joffrey. I'm sorry that I didn't side with you when he accused you and Nymeria of attacking him. I was stupid. I just wanted to be queen and…I should not have turned my back on my family. I was blind to how terrible he was then. I'm not now."

"Did Joffrey hurt you?" Arya asked quietly.

"Yes." She couldn't bring herself to tell Arya what he'd done to her – how he'd beaten and humiliated her. "At least I didn't marry him," she whispered. "There is that blessing."

"But you're married to the Kingslayer." Arya said in disgust. "Is that any better?"

"Don't call him Kingslayer. His name is Ser Jaime. He's not like the other Lannisters. He's never hurt me."

"But he's Joffrey's father. Don't you think he got his cruelty from him?"

Sansa looked around to make sure they were alone and lowered her voice to a whisper. "Jaime was never a father him. King Robert was. Joffrey was more like Cersei than anyone else. Jaime saw what a monster he was before he died."

"Was it wonderful when he died?" Arya asked.

Sansa glanced around nervously. "It was tragic for the king to die and to suffer such an agonizing death. You can't allow anyone to hear you speak treason." Arya nodded, realizing that they were surrounded by thousands of Lannister soldiers. They could report back to the queen regent. "Did anyone hurt you, Arya? While you were alone, looking for your family?" Sansa asked hesitantly.

She shook her head. "I learned to protect myself." Arya looked around the tent to make certain they were alone before she spoke again. "I could kill the Kingslayer for you," she whispered. "I know how."

"What do you mean, you know how? Have you killed someone?"

"Only when I had to."

Sansa's eyes widened. "You'll not hurt Jaime. Promise me."

"I promise," she said reluctantly. "You like being married to him, don't you?"

She looked down at her hands, afraid to have this conversation with Arya. Sansa was afraid that she would react as their mother had – with anger at Sansa for loving an enemy of House Stark. Arya was to live at Casterly Rock, as was their mother. Sansa had no desire to have yet another family member living under the same roof and hating her. She wanted to tell her sister that she was with child, but she was afraid. Sansa wanted her child to be loved, not hated. She was spared from having to answer by Pia returning with clothing for Arya.

Sansa heard Jaime enter their tent and walked around the privacy screen to speak to him, while Pia helped Arya dry off and dress. Her husband was bare-chested, changing into a clean tunic for their day's journey. She walked up behind him and ran her hands over his back. He turned to face her and let her lace up his tunic and work the buttons on his surecoat. "Thank you," she murmured, wrapping her arms around his waist and resting her head against his chest.

"She's your sister. Of course I would bring her with us."

"But you don't have to. And you didn't have to allow her friends to come along." She tilted her head up to look at him. "Your sister will be angry if she learns that Gendry lives, and that you are hiding him from her."

"Then I'll have to take care that she doesn't find out. I'm going to bring the prisoners from the Red Wedding – the survivors – with us to Casterly Rock."

"Why?"

Jaime gently stroked her hair. "Winterfell…it would be difficult to hold the North with no support from the Lords of the North."

"Especially since my mother has disowned me," she said quietly, breaking his gaze.

"Winterfell is rightfully yours, Sansa. And I will make sure that no one can deny it to you." He smiled to himself. "How is your sister? I could have told her how much you mislike people speaking about cocks." Even as she glared at his word choice, Jaime moved his mouth to her ear. "Though you do enjoy having mine inside you," he whispered with a smirk.

She shoved him. "You shouldn't say such things," she hissed.

Jaime chuckled. "You and Arya seem…different from one another."

Sansa rolled her eyes. "We never have gotten along all that well. Arya always wanted to be with our brothers - hunting or practicing with a sword. Mother would force her to have sewing and dancing lessons with me, with Septa Mordane, but she was never very good at it and…" Sansa trailed off with a shrug. She couldn't help thinking that Arya must wish that one of their brothers was alive, rather than Sansa, though she'd never voice that thought aloud to Jaime. "I suppose…I suppose the person I was closest to in my family was…my mother."

He kissed the top of her head, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. Sansa tilted her head up to meet his eyes. "Must you provoke her?"

"Your mother?"

She sighed. "Arya."

"How do I provoke her?"

"Little sister?" she asked with a smile.

"I'll try to do better," he said with mock seriousness. She smiled despite herself. Even when he infuriated her, she couldn't stop herself from admiring him. He was so kind to her, and so generous. Though he was very quiet about giving her gifts. Little baubles would just appear. Including the ruby ring she wore, which appeared on her finger when she awoke one morning.

She ran her fingers over his hair, smoothing it down. Jaime cupped her cheek with his hand and kissed her. "I love you," she whispered between kisses.

"I do not want to wear this," Arya said, stomping into the room and Sansa immediately blushed and stopped kissing Jaime. She could see that her sister was shocked to see her in Jaime's arms. "Are you going to do that a lot?" she asked in disgust.

"Do what?" Sansa asked.

"Kiss him."

"Quite a lot. You best get used to the sight," Jaime said over her shoulder and Sansa raised her eyes heavenward, not sure how she was going to deal with the two of them and the many squabbles she anticipated. She knew full well that Jaime would not be able to resist teasing Arya.

Mercifully, Arya let the subject of their kissing go and looked at Sansa with a long-suffering expression. "The dress?"

"You're wearing the dress," she ground out, walking toward her little sister and picking at the ends of her short hair. There was little she could do with Arya's hair, short as it was. Sansa had suggested a ribbon wrapped around her head, and thought her sister would strike her dead. She supposed she should consider the fact that Pia even got the dress on her to be a victory.

"It's easier to ride wearing breeches."

"Well, you're not riding," Jaime said in annoyance. "You'll travel with your sister in her carriage," Jaime said, walking out of the tent. Arya trotted after him, making her case for a horse, and Sansa slowly followed them.

"Why can't I have a horse?" she asked Jaime.

He sighed. "You're a little girl. You should ride in a carriage with your sister."

"I hate carriages. I want a horse. I won't run away, I promise."

"Just put her on a horse," Sansa said. "It's not worth arguing with her."

Jaime looked at the soldier beside him. "Find her a horse. A slow one, preferably."

"I want to see my mother," Arya said, turning to Jaime.

"You're quite welcome for the horse," he said peevishly. "And you'll not see your mother just yet."

"Why not?"

"Here's what I will do for you, little sister," Sansa watched Arya's eyes narrow at his calling her "little sister." She could see her request that he not provoke her sister had done wonders. "You behave yourself as we travel to Casterly Rock and then, when you've proven to me that you can be trusted, I will allow you to see your mother. Do we have an agreement?"

Arya nodded.

As they waited for Arya's horse, Pia appeared beside Jaime, asking to speak to him. He took her aside and returned moments later with a small, narrow sword. "What is this?" he asked Arya.

"That's mine!" she shouted. "My brother Jon gave that to me."

"I understand it was hidden in the lining of your coat. You weren't planning to harm anyone here, were you?"

"No," she said in a small voice. "You're not going to take it, are you?"

He raised an eyebrow. "You think I'm going to arm you?"

"I promise only to use it if we are attacked. Please."

Sansa was astonished to see that Jaime was going to relent. "You're going to let her carry that on her hip?"

"I can always use another soldier." Sansa gave him a long-suffering look. "She won't hurt anyone with it. Will you?" he asked, turning to Arya.

"I won't. I promise."

He handed the sword to her. "Does it have a name?"

Sansa could see that Arya wanted to smile, but was refusing to show that she liked Jaime, even a little bit. "Needle."

"Needle?"

"Sansa has her needles…for sewing. This one is mine."

Jaime chuckled to himself, turning as his man walked back with a horse Sansa assumed was for her sister. "If you even look as if you're trying to run off, you're small enough for me to bind and gag and throw over the back of my horse for entire trip to the Rock, do you understand me? And Needle, will spend the rest of our trip in a trunk should you abuse my trust in you. From what I've seen, it appears your sister would heartily approve of both such actions."

Sansa forced herself not to smile at Jaime's threats as Arya took the reins of the horse and muttered what sounded like her promise not to run. Jaime walked toward her as Arya got acquainted with her horse.

"Are you agreeable to Lady Roslin sharing your carriage? Your Uncle Edmure is…reluctant to see her and, I gave my word she would not be treated as a prisoner."

"I'm sure we shall get along fine." Sansa was curious about Lady Roslin. Jaime had explained to her that she had been a reluctant participant in the Red Wedding; that she seemed quite remorseful for what her family had done, so Sansa was willing to give her a chance.

Jaime lowered his voice. "The both of you are with child, so you have that to chat about, if nothing else." She nodded. "Your mother will ride in a separate carriage we've borrowed from the Freys. I had thought …" He trailed off and Sansa knew what he was going to say. That he had planned for her mother to share her carriage until yesterday.

It must have shown on her face that she was thinking about her mother's words to her. _You are not my daughter_. "Are you all right, Sansa?" he whispered. "I didn't get the chance to speak to you this morning, what with your sister turning up as she did and…you drifted right off to sleep last night after we-"

She clasped her hand over his mouth, fearful of what he was going to say about their activities in bed the night before. He smiled beneath her hand. "I'll be all right," she said, allowing Jaime to take her into his arms.

"You always have me. And now your sister…charming as she is."

Sansa smiled. "She offered to kill you for me." He raised an eyebrow. "And now you've given her a weapon." She laughed at his expression. "I told her that it wasn't necessary. That I was quite content to have you as my husband." He met her eyes as she brushed a wayward strand of hair off his forehead.

"Just content?" he asked, leaning towards her and resting a hand on her waist.

"You're not going to kiss are you?" Arya asked in disgust.

Before Sansa could respond, Jaime covered her lips with his own, kissing her more passionately than was proper in public. "Yes," he said, smirking at Arya, who appeared disgusted by his display.

"Was that really necessary?" Sansa whispered, embarrassed by her little sister seeing such a passionate kiss between them. Jaime only smirked at her in response.

"Can I ride beside Gendry?" Arya asked.

Jaime signaled for one of his men to come over. "Let her ride next to her friend. But bring her to me if it even appears that she is trying to escape." As Arya mounted her horse, a light snow began to fall. Jaime looked up in surprise. "It never snows this far south."

"Winter is coming," Sansa whispered quietly. Jaime and Arya both heard her and she noticed the smile on Arya's face as she looked up at the sky, catching a few flakes on her tongue.

"We'll be at Casterly Rock soon," Jaime said, helping her into her carriage and leaning in for one more kiss. "We'll be home soon."

"Home," Sansa said with a nod as she leaned back against her seat and rubbed her hand over her belly. "We're going home," she whispered to the child inside her.

...

_Hope you enjoyed it. Let me know what you think._

_Next Chapter: Arya is reunited with her mother_


	32. Chapter 32

_Sorry this chapter took a little longer to post – life got in the way a little bit. As always, I so appreciate the reviews – especially now that I'm going beyond where the books end. I hope you all enjoy it!_

…_._

Chapter 32

It had been several years since Jaime had been home to Casterly Rock. They were only a few days away and Jaime looked forward to putting his years in King's Landing behind him. He realized now how much he'd missed his home; how much he'd hated being in the Kingsguard. He found that he was rather anxious to reach Lannisport, so that he could get Sansa off the road and begin their new life together. Casterly Rock was to be where they raised their children. It was to be their home.

He hoped Sansa would find happiness there. He knew that Winterfell would always be her home, but he hoped she would come to see Casterly Rock as her home as well. He had written ahead to the staff before leaving the capitol to ensure that the castle was ready for their arrival. Sansa was to have his mother's old rooms – which had been untouched since her death. He had sent orders for his mother's rooms – as well as his father's old rooms – to be completely redone to his specifications. He wanted Casterly Rock to be perfect for Sansa.

Jaime knew that Sansa would never truly be happy until she had a relationship with her mother again. He wasn't sure what he could do about Lady Catelyn's anger and hostility towards her daughter. His only hope was that she loved her daughter more than she hated him. That she would see how much harm she was causing Sansa – and herself – when she disowned her daughter.

Then there was the matter of Sansa's wayward sister. So far, Arya Stark didn't seem to have the deep hatred for him that Lady Catelyn did; and she didn't seem to have any anger towards Sansa, beyond normal sisterly squabbles, which relieved him. He didn't know if Sansa could take another family member turning their back on her. Jaime still wasn't entirely convinced that the child wouldn't try to escape, so he made sure she was kept far from her mother for the time being. The reward of seeing her mother was the one thing he knew would keep the willful little thing in check.

Jaime spotted Edmure Tully riding with the hundred men specifically assigned to guard him. He rode over to speak to his hostage. "Lord Tully." As Jaime approached, his soldiers fell back, giving Jaime and Edmure distance in order to speak privately.

"Kingslayer."

Jaime gritted his teeth in annoyance at his insistence on calling him Kingslayer. "I apologize if my presence offends. I merely wished to let you know that your lady wife is comfortably sharing Sansa's carriage. She seemed in good health when I introduced them. If it matters to you at all." Edmure still had not asked to see Lady Roslin. Jaime had begun to wonder why he'd even requested that she accompany them to Casterly Rock.

Edmure looked down, appearing to regret the disrespectful nickname, before addressing Jaime once again. "Thank you. I'm glad Roslin fares well. How does…is Sansa all right? My sister should not have said the things she said to her. I'm certain she did not mean it."

"Her daughter believes she meant it. I would have thought that a woman who has lost so many children would be grateful to have one in her arms again. Had I known that Lady Catelyn would hurt Sansa as she did, I would have left her to rot at the Twins."

"It was…a shock to her to learn that Sansa carries your child….that she believes herself to be in love with you." Jaime chuckled bitterly to himself at his choice of words. _Believes_ _herself to be in love with you_. "I'll own, I see that you have been kind to her…perhaps even care for her in your own way. But the bad blood between your families -"

"If that's your feeling, I wonder why you would ask for Lady Roslin to accompany us to Casterly Rock. Certainly there is a great deal of _bad blood_, as you say, between the Tullys and the Freys – between your families - after the Red Wedding."

Edmure was quiet after that for a few minutes, but he spoke up again.

"Whatever she feels for you now, we both know Sansa didn't have a choice about this marriage. She could not have refused you. But you could have refused her. Why did you marry my niece?"

Jaime looked ahead, unable to resist provoking Edmure. He certainly had no intention of being honest with him about his feelings for Sansa; about how broken he was when he returned to King's Landing; or about how much he needed to save the sweet girl who looked at him and saw a protector.

"I'd be a fool to refuse to marry a beautiful, innocent young girl. She is very sweet…affectionate. I can see why good old Ned kept her hidden away in the wilds of the North." He could see that Edmure was angered by his words and relented, a bit. "I was fond of Sansa the day I married her, and that fondness has only increased in the months we have been married."

"Was it really as bad for Sansa in the capitol as she said?"

Jaime was reluctant for Edmure to know what exactly Sansa had been through, but Jaime hoped he would communicate what Sansa had endured in King's Landing to Lady Catelyn. That perhaps if she understood what her daughter had been through, she would understand. "It was worse. When I arrived in Kings Landing, I found her naked and bleeding, being whipped by the Kingsguard as Joffrey watched. As punishment for her brother Robb's treachery. And I suspect as entertainment for Joffrey. Sansa told me that it was a regular occurrence once Ned Stark was beheaded and her brother proclaimed himself King in the North."

"Your sister allowed this?"

Jaime met his eyes briefly, before staring straight ahead. "My sister had planned to allow Joffrey to keep Sansa as his mistress – his whore – upon his marriage to Margaery Tyrell until I agreed to marry her myself. Do you actually think Cersei would care if he beat her?"

That silenced Edmure for good.

"I would have thought your sister would be kinder to her daughter. Especially a daughter who is as gentle as Sansa. As kind. I don't like to see her unhappy…less so now that she's with child. Sansa should be able to turn to her mother. She spent more than a year praying every day for nothing more than to be reunited with her family. Only to be cast aside because of what she had to do to survive."

"You didn't honestly expect my sister to be happy about Sansa's feelings for you?"

"No. But I never dreamed she'd prefer to see her daughter miserable. I never imagined she'd prefer to see her daughter raped every night by her husband, in a marriage filled with hate and cruelty. I don't know how she could want that for Sansa, but it appears she does. I don't understand how she could be angry at her daughter for finding a way to be happy."

Edmure didn't seem to have a response for that.

"If Lady Catelyn wants to blame someone for our marriage – for her daughter _believing she loves me_ - she can blame me. She can blame me for having the temerity to be kind to her daughter. She can hate me for refusing to be cruel to her daughter; for doing what was within my power to make her daughter happy. She shouldn't hate Sansa for that." Jaime wheeled his horse away, leaving Edmure to think about his words.

…..

Sansa and Roslin sat across from one another in awkward silence. Jaime had introduced them before sealing them up in the carriage but now that they were alone, they weren't sure what to say to each other, and looked at each other uncertainly.

"I – I thank you for allowing me to travel with you, Lady Lannister," she said quietly. Sansa could see that she was uncertain as to how she would be received by Robb Stark's sister.

Sansa smiled shyly. "Please call me Sansa. Would it be all right if I called Roslin?"

"Of course. Your lord husband is very kind to take me with you to Casterly Rock. He's been very generous with me."

Sansa smiled softly. "He tells me that my uncle asked that you accompany us. Lord Tully must be fond of you. Have you seen him since -" she stopped, not meaning to discuss the Red Wedding.

"I am sorry," Roslin whispered. "I…I didn't know…how to stop it and…I didn't have a choice. I didn't know they would do that to…I didn't know my father would desecrate your brother's body like that."

Sansa met the girl's eyes and could see that she spoke the truth. "Did you father wish you to be my brother's queen that badly?"

"My father has always ambitious and proud. When he feels that someone has not shown him the proper respect he…well it upsets him greatly. He said it was an insult that they would offer the Lord of Riverrun as a husband for me in place of the King in the North. That Robb Stark had promised. But…Edmure was very pleasant to me. I believe would have liked to be his lady wife."

"You are his wife."

Roslin nodded, resting her hand on her stomach. "I suppose I am. Though he is no longer Lord of Riverrun and he must blame me. He must hate me," she finished with a whisper. "He has every right to. My only hope is that he does not hate our child."

Sansa felt a connection with Roslin Tully and was glad that Lady Tully would be living at the Rock. She found she was desperate for another female to talk with; for a friend to confide in. They were of the same age and both were torn between their families and their husbands. Sansa could see that Lady Roslin had great affection for her uncle Edmure. She couldn't help wondering if she felt any guilt over her love for her husband as Sansa sometimes did for how much she loved Jaime.

"He won't hate your child. It will be his child, too. And he would not have asked Jaime to bring you with us if he hated you or your child. It must be difficult to be put in the middle of your husband and your father," Sansa offered.

She nodded. "I expect you're in a similar situation. With your husband and your mother. I know the Starks and Lannisters are on opposite sides of this war. Are you and your mother close?"

"I thought we were," Sansa said in a small voice. "I…I carry Ser Jaime's child and she…can't forgive me for that. Or for loving him."

Sansa had never meant to fall in love with Jaime. She had liked him well enough before they married and she found him very handsome. But she had not loved him and had not thought she ever would. She thought about their wedding night and how terrified she had been standing in Jaime's bedchamber for the first time. She had wished that her mother had been able to reassure her and tell her what to expect. Sansa knew she was fortunate that Jaime was so gentle and patient with her inexperience. She knew many women were not so lucky in the marriage bed.

She had never expected to desire Jaime as she did. And little by little, Sansa had come to need the physical closeness of Jaime's body against hers. It was a comfort to her. And she'd had so little comfort while being held hostage in King's Landing as Joffrey's betrothed. Each time Jaime made love to her and each night she slept in his arms, Sansa became more and more attached to him. Even when they did not make love, just sleeping naked in his arms – feeling his body against hers - made Sansa feel closer to him.

Then it had become more than physical closeness. Jaime was someone she could talk to about her fears. And he trusted her to listen to his. Sometimes his pride made him guarded but she knew that she made him feel safe and accepted. Just as he did for her. They were thrown together at a time when they were both alone in the world. Sansa had come to need Jaime and he needed her as well. _I'll never turn my back on the man who was there for me when I had no one._

Sansa's thoughts were interrupted when Roslin began to speak. "My mother died when I was very young. And I've never been close to my father," Roslin offered. "He has so many children and no use for daughters. He's not a kind man." Hearing about Roslin's family made Sansa realize how lucky she was to have been born a Stark. Growing up, she had never doubted that her parents loved her. "If Edmure loved me I would turn away from my family in a moment. He's a good man and…my father is not. Ser Jaime…he might not have a reputation for being good or kind but…he's been very kind to me and I see that you love him. I do not think that you would love him if he were cruel."

"He's done so much for me," Sansa whispered. "I know he's done wrong in the past but, he's been so good to me. He hates when I look at him as if he is a hero but…he's been a hero to me. And my mother hates me for that. For allowing Jaime to love me and for loving him back. I suppose my mother would rather I had died in the capitol," Sansa said tearfully.

Roslin leaned forward and took her hand. "Sansa, it was…in the morning, after the wedding was over, they came into the bedchamber Edmure and I shared on our wedding night and, dragged him out to see what they had done to his king. My father brought me to see as well and…" she closed her eyes, "it was horrible. Your mother was there when that happened to your brother. She must suffer unspeakable pain. She seemed a kind woman when I met her. Before….I'm certain she would not wish you dead."

…

After two days of Arya cooperating, Jaime agreed that she could see her mother. He had offered to escort her to Lady Catelyn's tent himself – or to send her with Ser Addam – but Sansa had said that she would go. She had assured Jaime that she wouldn't see her mother – she knew that he was worried about her mother saying something else to upset her and, for her part, Sansa was not at all eager to hear more harsh words.

As Sansa and Arya walked across the camp, with several Lannister soldiers trailing after them, Arya asked why Sansa had not gone to see their lady mother before now. "Does the Kingslayer not allow it?"

"Ser Jaime," Sansa corrected. "I did see her, the first night that she was in our camp. And…" Sansa's voice broke as she tried to explain to Arya what had happened.

"What's the matter?" Arya asked, genuinely concerned.

"She said I wasn't her daughter. Because of Jaime." Arya's eyes widened. "So, I won't go in with you to see her. She doesn't wish to see me and…I'm afraid - afraid of what more she might say to me."

Arya didn't say anything as Sansa's eyes filled with tears, but she took her older sister's hand as they walked the rest of the way to the hostages' tent. Sansa allowed the guards to enter Edmure Tully's tent first, before Sansa and Arya entered. She knew they had been told to make sure Sansa did not have any contact with her mother. Jaime was concerned that if she got too upset, it would harm the child inside her. Edmure looked up in surprise, first at Sansa and then at Arya.

"Who do we have here?" he asked Sansa.

"My sister. Arya Stark." Edmure was visibly surprised. No doubt her mother had expressed her belief that Arya was dead. She turned to Arya. "This is our uncle, Edmure Tully. Arya's here to speak to…our mother."

Edmure smiled, approaching them both. "It's a pleasure to finally meet you, Arya. I should have traveled to Winterfell more often. Your mother will be very grateful that you are alive and well."

Sansa gestured toward the entrance to their mother's tent. "Go ahead. I'll wait here."

Arya nodded, all but running through to see their mother. Sansa stood there, watching and listening through the tent flaps, making certain that she remained out of sight.

Arya slowly approached their mother who was sitting in a chair. Sansa couldn't see what she was doing, as her back was to her. She heard her sister quietly say, "Mother," and watched her mother drop her book to the ground before turning and looking at Arya in shock.

"Arya? Is that really you?"

Her sister nodded, walking closer to their mother, and stopping right in front of her. Lady Catelyn reached toward Arya with a shaking hand before gently touching her cheek, which was wet with tears. Sansa could see that her mother didn't really believe that her youngest daughter was standing in front of her. Sansa had scarce believed it herself when she first saw Arya again.

"Arya," she murmured, pulling her sister into her arms. "I feared you were dead. We've not heard anything of you since your father…" Her mother began to cry as she clung to Arya.

"I've been looking for you for months, mother," she burst out.

Lady Catelyn ran her hand over Arya's hair. "What happened to your hair?"

"I was pretending to be a boy," she said, still holding their mother. "Sansa made me bathe and put on a dress when I got here."

"I feared I had no children left," she murmured, looking at Arya. "You've grown."

"You have Sansa too, mother. She's just in there, if you wish to see her."

Her mother acted as if Arya had not spoken at all. As if she did not care that Sansa was alive as well. Lady Catelyn hugged Arya to her and asked to hear what had happened – what she had been doing, where she was – these past few months. Sansa couldn't help feeling another stab of rejection at her mother's complete disinterest in seeing her.

Sansa watched as her mother held Arya, rocking her and resting her head on top of her sister's, and was ashamed by how much she wished her mother would hold her that way. She knew that she shouldn't. Not after her mother's cruel words to her, but she couldn't help longing for her mother's love.

Sansa felt tears welling up in her eyes. As she wiped her eyes, she felt her uncle watching her. She tried to turn away from him – to hide her tears – but he wasn't fooled. "Are you all right?"

"Will you tell Arya that I went back to my tent? The guards will escort her to her own tent when she's ready to leave." She wanted Jaime. She wanted the comfort that she knew he would offer. She didn't think it would hurt so much to see her mother's love for Arya when she had none for her, but it did. Sansa hurried from the tent, not wanting her uncle to see any more of her tears.

"Sansa?" She stopped at the sound of Edmure Tully's voice. "They didn't know. Robb and your mother. They had no idea what was happening to you in Kings Landing."

"That's what Jaime said. Whether they knew or not…I needed help and…Jaime was the one who helped me. He was the one who was kind to me. Who made me feel safe. And I had not felt safe for one moment since my father was killed. Until Jaime returned and protected me. Jaime has more than earned my love. And my loyalty."

"Your mother will come around."

"That's kind of you to say, but I believe you're wrong. What need does she have of me now, anyway? She has a daughter in her arms."

"And you're her daughter, too. And I know she longs to hold you, as well."

"No. She doesn't see me as her daughter. She only sees Jaime Lannister's wife when she looks at me." Sansa looked at him for a moment, considering. "Your lady wife rides in my carriage."

"Jaime told me."

"Before Jaime came for her. When she was at the Twins…she spent every day in the sept, praying for a girl." He looked at her in question. "She feared that, if she had a boy, her father would have no further use for you. That he would kill you. She cares for you very much. You should perhaps show her the kindness my mother will not show me." She turned to leave his tent. "Good night."

Sansa knew the guards were following her, but she ignored them, not wishing to speak to anyone. She simply hurried back to Jaime – the one person she knew would never reject her.

...

_Thank you for reading! _

_Next Chapter: Arya and Jaime speak about Sansa_


	33. Chapter 33

_It is so great to read all of the comments and see how much you are enjoying the story. I hope it continues to entertain all of you!_

…..

Chapter 33

Jaime drank from his wine skin as he studied the map before him, looking for the quickest and safest route to Casterly Rock. He didn't wish to have Sansa traveling during this time of war for a moment longer than necessary. And though there was no danger of outlaws outnumbering his considerable forces, Jaime would as soon avoid any sort of battle.

He glanced up at the sound of someone approaching his tent and saw Sansa enter, clearly upset judging by the unshed tears in her eyes. "What's the matter?"

"I don't wish to bother you. You don't have to stop what you're doing but…can I…would you mind if I just sat here with you?"

"You never need ask," he said slowly, wondering if Lady Catelyn had spoken to her, despite his orders to his guards. She'd been insistent on escorting Arya to Lady Catelyn's tent, though Jaime had offered to do so himself. As she moved towards the chair opposite him, Jaime shook his head and gestured for her to come to him. She smiled in relief, walking towards him and allowing Jaime to pull her onto his lap. "This is much better," he murmured, kissing her temple. "What happened?"

"It's my own fault. I should not have listened when…I wanted to see how she received Arya and…" as her voice trailed off, Jaime wiped the tears that began to roll down her cheeks. "She said that she thought she'd lost all of her children and Arya told her that she had the both of us…that I was just outside. But it was as if I don't exist for her. She held Arya and told her she loved her and…pretended Arya had not even said my name."

He could see that she was fighting the urge to cry and Jaime wrapped his arms around her, holding her tightly. "Don't ever let anyone make you feel that you don't exist. I'd have nothing in this world without you." She smiled through her tears, looking down at her belly and resting her hand on it. "That's right. You're everything to me and you will be everything to our babe."

"I haven't told my sister." He looked down at her rapidly expanding belly and raised an eyebrow. "I know it will be obvious soon. I just worry that she'll react as my mother did. I've missed my family and…as much as she infuriates me sometimes…Arya is my sister. The only family I have left. I don't want to hear her say that I'm not her sister," she finished with a whisper.

Jaime wished that he could promise her that wouldn't happen, but he'd learned that he knew nothing about the Starks. He'd certainly never expected Lady Catelyn to treat Sansa as she had. "Your sister may surprise you."

Sansa nodded. "You love me don't you?" she asked hesitantly.

"You really need even ask? I love you very much, Sansa. And our little lion cub as well." Jaime could see that she was feeling lost and unloved. That she was looking for reassurance and comfort. He helped her to her feet and led her to their bed. "You should rest. There's been quite a lot of excitement the past few days. And I expect the babe would benefit from you sleeping."

He walked her back to the sleeping area in their tent and helped her take off her gown. Jaime smiled at the sight of her protruding belly as she stood in just her shift. He held back the furs and blankets so Sansa could crawl under them and he sat beside her, holding her. She curled up against his chest, absently playing with the ties on his tunic.

"Tell me about Casterly Rock, again."

He smiled. "Casterly Rock is the biggest castle you have ever seen. Only Harrenhal is larger in all the Realm. It's a fortress, really, and it overlooks Lannisport and the Sunset Sea. It's carved out of a great stone mountain. When the sun hits the Rock, it glows a golden red much like the color of your hair." He saw her smile. "The Rock has never fallen – its walls have never been breached. The castle never taken. It's the safest place you can be. In what will be our bedchamber, you can hear the ocean roaring beneath the castle."

"It's where this babe will be born," he said, looking down at her pregnant form curled against him. "We'll raise our child there…and any others we may have. I will do anything in my power to make you happy, Sansa. Anything in my power to make Casterly Rock feel like your home."

He glanced down and saw her eyes beginning to close and lowered his voice to a whisper. "No one will ever harm my beautiful Lady of the Rock. Anything I can give you…you shall have, my love. We'll live our lives far away from King's Landing…and the Iron Throne."

He slid from her grasp and helped ease her down further onto the bed, smiling as she curled onto her side, in a little ball. Jaime rubbed her belly with affection before pulling the furs to cover her to the neck and bending to kiss her forehead.

He left her to sleep and resumed his place at his table. It wasn't long before little Arya Stark came running in, his men trailing after her. She stopped at the sight of him and looked around the tent.

"Where's my sister?"

"She's sleeping," Jaime said in an irritated voice. He glanced at his guards. "I'd like to speak to the child alone." His soldiers nodded, leaving them alone. "Sansa came back from your mother's tent crying. She'll not be escorting you there anymore."

"It's your fault," she whispered viciously. "If it wasn't for you, my mother and Sansa and I would be a family again."

He leaned towards the child. "It if wasn't for me, the three of you wouldn't even have seen one another again. Sansa would be dead or locked up in King's Landing, your mother would be in Walder Frey's dungeon, and you'd be facing a long winter alone in the cold with your friends."

"Let us go. I can protect my sister. She doesn't need you."

Jaime raised his eyebrows and took another sip of wine. "Is this the thanks I get for treating you kindly?"

"You're destroying what's left of my family." Jaime reminded himself that the child had lost her father and her three brothers, as well as her home. That she was likely desperate to put her life back the way it was before the royal visit to Winterfell. "Sansa should have learned with Joffrey – he split us apart just as you are doing. She needs to choose her family this time."

Jaime leaned back in his chair and gestured for Arya to sit. She dramatically slumped into the chair opposite him and Jaime resisted laughing. Her willfullness did remind him of Cersei at that age. Not that he'd ever tell Arya. He'd likely end up with that little sword of hers through his eye. "What did your mother tell you about Sansa and me?"

"Not very much," she said quietly. "She didn't want to talk about her. She said you've turned Sansa against our family."

"How did I do that?" he asked curiously. She shrugged. "If I didn't want Sansa to have a relationship with you – or with your mother – I could have left the both of you in the Riverlands and saved myself a great deal of aggravation."

"If we're so aggravating, then let us go."

He smiled. "Sansa is my wife. She's not going anywhere without me. And I can't let you or your mother go free, I'm afraid. The best I can do is offer you a safe and comfortable place to live. With Sansa. Though, make no mistake, I won't allow you to treat her as your mother has. You do know your mother has disowned her."

Arya nodded. "I won't do that," she said quietly.

"Good. Despite your mother thinking that Sansa's turned against her family…it hurts her very much to be rejected by her mother. And Sansa's already shed far too many tears." Arya was quiet, looking down at the table. "You may like Casterly Rock if you give it a chance. Sansa tells me you're an archer…there are very nice archery grounds at the Rock."

She examined the little sword on her hip and feigned disinterest. "You'd give me a bow and arrow?"

"So long as you don't point it at me or your sister." She smiled to herself. "I'm not going anywhere, Arya. You'd best get used to me."

She glared at him. "I suppose you're better than Joffrey. But don't think I like you. I don't."

"Your distaste for me is noted. Sansa tells me you offered to kill me for her."

"I could do it," she said defiantly. "She asked me not to. But if you hurt her, I will."

Jaime didn't challenge her assertion that she could kill him, though he found it amusing. "I would never hurt your sister. I promise you." He could see that she didn't quite believe him. "Have you spoken to her at all about what happened when she was alone in the capitol?"

She shook her head. "She said Joffrey hurt her but…she didn't say anything else. She didn't say what he did."

Their conversation was interrupted when Sansa started screaming from where she slept. Jaime pulled his sword and hurried to her. He saw that she was dreaming, though her screams persisted. He dropped his sword and sat beside her on the bed.

Jaime gripped her shoulder and said her name as she struggled against him. Her eyes flew open and she looked at him in terror before sitting up and, wrapping her arms around his neck, burrying her face against him. "It was just a dream, Sansa. Just a dream. You're safe."

"I was at…Roslin and Edmure's wedding," she said breathlessly. "I saw them kill Robb and…cut off his head. Then they killed Grey Wind and…Lady," she started crying against him. "Then they…were going to cut off my head too," she whispered.

Jaime swallowed in anger. _Damn you, Catelyn Stark. _This was exactly why he had shielded her from the details of her brother's murder. He gently circled his hand over her back. "You're safe, sweet girl. No one's going to harm you."

"It was so real," she said in a shaky voice. "I miss my brothers and my father," she said quietly, her arms still wrapped tightly around his neck. He felt her fingers gently stroking the back of his neck.

"I was angry with my father the last time we spoke. Before…but I always knew that he loved me. When I was growing up at Winterfell…I was never scared. Because I knew that my father or Robb…would protect me. I never thanked them for making me feel safe. I wish I could go home…" Jaime felt a stab of guilt. Going home to Winterfell was the one thing he couldn't give her right now. She looked up at him. "I'm sorry…don't – don't think that I don't want to be with you. I do it's just…"

"You miss your family."

She nodded and Jaime glanced over Sansa's head, toward where he'd entered the sleeping area. He could see Arya standing in the shadows, watching him comfort her sister. "You must miss Tyrion…and your father," Sansa said quietly.

Jaime gazed down at her and smiled sadly. It was so like Sansa to think of his pain whilst in the middle of her own. He nodded. "Sometimes I do. Tyrion more than my father. I miss being able to ask his advice and…I miss his humor. But I know I'm not alone."

Sansa gazed at him with her big blue eyes and gently touched his face. "You always have me. Just as I always have you."

"I'm sorry I can't give you more of your family back. That I can't take you home to the north," he said softly. "One day, Sansa. One day Winterfell will be as it was, and I will take you home." He felt her burrowing into his arms and against his chest. He kissed her temple. He glanced over at Arya again. He couldn't see much of her, but he could see her grey eyes which were bright with tears. No doubt she shared her sister's grief.

"I know you will protect me now," she whispered. "And love me. I love you, Jaime."

"I love you, too," he said, kissing her softly.

"Will you come to bed now and…just hold me?" He reached out and stroked her face. _She needs me._ Jaime had never truly been needed by anyone before and he still wasn't used to it. He kissed her softly, nodding as she got back under the furs. Jaime began to disrobe, pausing as he pulled at the laces on his breeches, glancing to where Arya had been standing and seeing she was gone. He removed the rest of his clothes, and placed his golden hand on the bedside table before climbing into bed beside Sansa. She curled up next to him, resting her head on his chest.

"I love you more than anything, Sansa," he whispered as she absently traced her fingers over his chest. "You have nothing to fear. You only have happiness to look forward to…in a few months, our babe will arrive. Think about that, Sansa. Think about your dreams for this child. How much you will love this child."

She nodded her head against his chest. "I already love our baby," she whispered, turning her eyes up at him. "Can we have more?"

He chuckled, stroking her hair. "How many do you want?"

"Enough that they'll always have someone. That they won't ever be alone." He lowered his head to kiss her, smiling as she returned it with an intensity he didn't expect from her.

"You'll never be alone again, Sansa. Not as long as I draw breath. I will chase away all the monsters, and strike down anyone who hurts you. I promise you that."

Jaime could see that she believed him absolutely. _She has complete faith in me. I won't disappoint her._

….

_I hope you liked it. I like exploring the Jaime/Arya dynamic, because I actually think that she would like him. He'd the famous, spectacularly skilled knight she's heard all about – and dreamed of being - and I think he would be amused by her. Let me know what you thought of it!_

_Next Chapter: Sansa and Arya watch Jaime battle Ser Ilyn_


	34. Chapter 34

_Wow, almost 300 reviews! Thank you so much for all of the feedback and for continuing to read. It's going to be a bit more about character development for a while and exploring the relationships between Sansa, Jaime, Arya and Catelyn, but then there will be more action/adventure. _

…..

Chapter 34

Sansa walked around the camp while Jaime met with Ser Addam and saw that Arya was sitting by a hole in the ground in which her friend Gendry was in the process of building a fire. Sansa hung back a bit, simply watching them. Watching her sister with Gendry reminded her of Arya's relationship with Jon Snow. The two of them had always been close and she knew it had been difficult for Arya when they had parted. She was glad that Arya found someone – that she had not been alone in the world after their father was executed. Sansa imagined that Arya had been just as scared and lost as she had been.

Since seeing her mother's reunion with Arya, Sansa had made an effort to stay near Jaime – near the one person she knew loved her and would never say anything to hurt her. Sansa watched as Arya and Gendry worked together to build the fire, and it took all of Sansa's will to resist the impulse to pull Arya to her feet as she crawled on her knees, getting dirt and mud all over her dress. _I don't know why I bothered having her bathe._

"Why aren't you having dinner with your sister? Or your mother?" Gendry asked her, rearranging the branches Arya had just placed in the fire pit.

Sansa could see that her sister was annoyed by his question. "Do you want me to leave?"

"I was just asking. You've been looking for your family for so long, I thought you'd want to spend time with them."

"I saw my mother last night and I'll see her later. After dinner, perhaps. And my sister's always with the Kingslayer."

Sansa smiled as he whacked her on her arm. She would like it if Arya would join she and Jaime for dinner. She felt that her sister and husband had enough in common with Arya's interest in sword-fighting to carry on a conversation, much as she herself loathed the topic. But, Sansa knew that Arya was suspicious of her husband. "You shouldn't call Lord Lannister 'Kingslayer.' Not here in his camp of soldiers. And he's your sister's husband. Be more respectful." It was all Sansa could do not to snort. _Arya was one of the least respectful people she knew._

"He's holding my mother captive."

"Yes, but he's treating her kindly. Remember how the prisoners were treated at Harrenhal? How someone was tortured to death every day? Lord Lannister doesn't do that. He seems to treat your sister kindly. And he let you keep that bloody sword, didn't he?" Arya huffed to herself, annoyed that Gendry didn't share her dislike for Jaime. "You didn't tell me how pretty your sister was… She doesn't look much like you, does she?"

Sansa smiled to herself as Arya grew angry. "She has a husband. He'll kill you if you look-"

Gendry started to laugh. "If you're going to help, then actually help. Go get some more branches."

Arya stood and stalked off into the woods and Sansa walked closer to their fire. Gendry looked up, startled, as he hurried to his feet. "Lady Lannister, "

"Please, don't get up on my account. I see my sister continues to refuse to act like a lady."

"Forgive me, Lady Lannister, I should not have allowed her-"

Sansa waved her hand. "If my…If my father could not make her behave, I don't expect you or I to have any better luck."

"Would you like to sit, my lady?" he asked, gesturing to a camp stool.

"No, thank you. I've been sitting all day. Thank you for being kind to my sister. For protecting her while she was all alone. Bad things can happen to a young girl when she's separated from her family. Especially in times of war." Sansa forced herself not to think about the bad things that happened to her at the hands of Joffrey and Cersei.

"It was my pleasure, Lady Lannister. She doesn't follow directions very well but…she helped me, too. She tricked the queen's men into thinking I was dead." He smiled at Sansa. "She had me convinced she was a boy there for a while."

"I expect it was easy for her. Arya always preferred the company of our brothers to being with me," she said quietly.

She felt his eyes on her and met his gaze. "She did tell me that she wanted to find you, as well."

Sansa nodded as Arya came scampering back, filthy, her arms laden with branches and leaves. Sansa couldn't help the look of annoyance on her face. "Arya, could you at least try not to look such a mess?"

She dropped the kindling on the ground. "We're building a fire."

"So I see. It doesn't make you any less filthy. If you wish to see mother after dinner, Ser Addam will escort you." Sansa nodded to Gendry and turned to leave.

"I'm sorry for how mother is," Arya mumbled, so quietly Sansa could barely understand.

"It's not your fault," Sansa said quietly, not wanting to think about how her mother felt about her. "Enjoy dinner with your friend," she said before hurrying back to Jaime.

….

After having dinner with her, Jaime had picked up his sword and kissed the top of her head, leaving her to work on the sewing she was doing for the baby, so that he could practice with Ser Ilyn. He never said that was where he was going, but he went most every night, after dark, when his men were huddled around their fires, drinking and relaxing. She'd waited a few minutes after Jaime left her before putting on her cloak and following him, concealing herself behind a tree, watching as Jaime practiced with Ser Ilyn Payne.

She had watched he and Ser Ilyn spar a few times during their journey, always being careful that Jaime did not see her watching. She remembered how frustrated and ashamed he had been at the weakness in his left hand the first time he tried to swing a sword with it. She didn't wish to shame him any further, and knew he would be embarrassed if she saw how soundly Jaime was beaten by the king's justice.

She felt certain that Jaime's left hand was improving after nearly a month of him practicing with Ser Ilyn. The first time she had watched them, Sansa had nearly called for the red cloaks to intervene and protect Jaime. She had been terrified to see Ser Ilyn, the man who executed her father, hold the point of his sword to her husband's throat. For a moment, she had been sure that he was going to kill Jaime, leaving her alone again. But once he let Jaime up, she had realized that he would never actually kill him. Ser Ilyn merely beat and battered and humiliated him. She'd watched as over and over he bested her husband, the point of his sword at Jaime's throat. The despair and anger was apparent on Jaime's face.

Sansa was no expert at sword-fighting, but the past few times she'd watched them, she had noticed that Jaime was able to hold Ser Ilyn at bay for longer and longer periods of time before the blade was at his throat. Several times she had been certain that Jaime was about to prevail. She could see that Ser Ilyn had to struggle to beat him.

She heard a noise behind her and turned to see Arya. She'd not been alone with her sister since taking her to their mother. She knew it was cowardly, but she didn't want to know if Arya felt the same about her as Lady Catelyn did. Sansa put her finger to her lips, silently telling her little sister to be quiet. Arya nodded and stood in front of Sansa, the both of them concealed behind a tree watching the two knights battle.

"Why are you hiding?" Arya whispered.

"Jaime would not want us to watch. He practices at night, with Ser Ilyn, so no one will know."

"Know what?"

Sansa wasn't sure whether to tell Arya the true reason, though she expected she'd see soon enough, if she stayed there watching Jaime and Ser Ilyn sparring. "How weak his left hand is with a sword. That he's no longer the best in the entire Realm. Ser Ilyn can't speak, so he can't tell anyone how poorly Jaime fights."

Arya watched the two men in silence for a few minutes. "He doesn't look weak to me. There's strength behind it when he swings his sword."

"Do you think so?" Sansa whispered. "The first time he picked up the sword with his left hand, he could barely swing it. Though that was months ago and he has been practicing so hard." Sansa thought about the bruises all over Jaime's body from Ser Ilyn. _Perhaps he will one day be as unbeatable as he once was._

"Do you think he'll kill Ser Ilyn?" Arya asked excitedly.

"It's just practice."

"But they are using real swords."

Sansa paled. "They are?" Sansa had thought they were using practice swords, but she wasn't all that knowledgeable about swords. Though, she knew Arya could tell the difference. "I don't believe Jaime would kill the King's Justice."

"I would," Arya said with a hard voice Sansa had never heard before. "I have a list."

"You have what?"

"A list. Of people I'm going to kill."

Sansa wasn't sure if she was serious or not. "Whose on the list?" she asked warily.

Arya glanced up at her. "Joffrey was, but he's already dead."

"You promised not to hurt Jaime," Sansa reminded her.

"I know. He's not on my list. You like him a lot, don't you?" she whispered.

"Yes. He's…he's been a good husband to me." She wanted to tell Arya that she loved Jaime, more than anything, but her fear held her back. Sansa waited for Arya to tell her that she shouldn't like Jaime. That he was an enemy of House Stark, but her sister didn't say anything. Instead, she saw that Arya was watching Jaime and Ser Ilyn spar.

"Were you very scared? When you were alone in the capitol with Joffrey and Cersei?"

Sansa nodded quickly. "Yes. I was until Jaime came back. You must have been scared, too, before you became friends with Gendry." Arya turned and looked at her. Sansa could see that her sister wanted to say more, but she merely nodded before turning her attention back to Jaime and Ser Ilyn. She absently picked leaves out of her sister's hair as they watched the battle before them.

The two men seemed rather evenly matched, neither losing any ground to the other. Sansa gasped as Jaime flipped Ser Ilyn's sword from his hand, disarming him, and forced him to his knees. Jaime held the point of his sword at the man's throat. Seeing it – seeing Jaime so close to killing the man who killed her father filled Sansa with excitement. She realized that she shared Arya's wish that Jaime would kill the King's Justice. That Jaime would avenge her father.

She smiled to herself at the pride on Jaime's face. He finally beat him. Sansa raised her eyes heavenward and silently thanked the Warrior. She had not told Jaime, but she prayed for him – for his hand – every day. She prayed for Jaime to regain the skill on which he placed so much of his self-worth. She knew that being able to fight – to swing a sword – was what Jaime needed to feel safe. To feel like himself. She knew that being a great swordsman was part of what made him who he was. She'd never thought him more handsome than he was at that moment as he stood triumphant over Ser Ilyn Payne.

"We should go," she whispered to Arya.

"Why? Are they going to fight again? I want to see."

Sansa smiled, taking Arya's hand and leading her away, much as she wished to stay and watch her husband. "You can watch him again another night. I don't think Jaime would like to know that we were watching." Arya reluctantly allowed Sansa to take her back to her tent, glancing back at the two knights with interest.

….

Later that night, Jaime lay on his side, naked, stroking Sansa's hair as his heart rate gradually slowed. They were curled up under the furs, and he could see that she had a pretty flush to her cheeks and her chest from their lovemaking. She pulled him to her, kissing him as his hand freely roamed over her naked body. Her mouth moved to his neck. "You're such a brave…handsome knight, Jaime," she whispered in his ear.

He smiled as she raised her eyes to his, and he could see the admiration in her gaze. He kissed her softly, moving to kiss her jaw, then her neck, slowly moving his mouth over her body. "I love you very much…Ser Jaime," she breathed as he began kissing her breasts.

"Ser Jaime, is it?" he murmured teasingly, as he lazily sucked her nipple into his mouth. "Shall I call you Lady Sansa tonight?"

She batted at his shoulder playfully. "I saw you fighting Ser Ilyn tonight," she whispered hesitantly, threading her fingers through his hair. "You were spectacular," she said, a breathless smile on her face. He could see that seeing him win a battle had aroused and excited her. He knew that she liked knights, despite her assertions that she no longer believed that life was a song, but he didn't realize seeing him as a knight had this effect on her.

"Hoping I'll one day crown you Queen of Love and Beauty? I can just imagine the impure thoughts that would run through your pretty little head during a tournament."

She smiled shyly, a soft blush covering her cheeks. "I believe this was better than any crown."

He chuckled. "I agree, my lady." He gazed into her eyes, and felt whole. There was not a single thing in the world he longed for. "You are better than winning any tourney. Better than winning any fight."

When had Jaime returned to their tent earlier that night, he had felt a power and pride that he thought was gone forever. He had not felt it since Vargo Hoat had taken his sword hand. Tonight, Jaime felt as if he could conquer the world. After all the nights of humiliating defeats at the hand of Ser Ilyn Payne, Jaime had finally beaten him. It had not been especially elegant, but it had finally been his sword at the other man's throat, after hundreds of battles had ended with Jaime on his knees, the older man's sword at his throat.

While it was just one victory, and he'd been defeated when Ser Ilyn had challenged him to a rematch right after, Jaime knew that he was at last regaining the skills that had come so easily to him his entire life. As a boy, when he had first begun entering tournaments, he had been unstoppable. And it had been so easy. So natural. He'd taken his skill with a sword for granted. Now, he took pride and pleasure in each swipe of the sword that hit its mark.

Long before Sansa had become his wife, he'd grown dissatisfied with his life in King's Landing. And he'd often wondered what his life would have been like if he'd never given in to Cersei's demand that he join the Kingsguard. He supposed losing his hand was a small price to pay for what he'd been given since then – his sweet Sansa and the child in her belly.

He glanced at her and saw a mischievous smile playing at her lips as her fingers trailed over his back. "You say this is better than winning but, I know you were only this…"

"Passionate," he volunteered with a smirk

She blushed, no doubt thinking of how ardently he'd just made love to her. "Yes. I know it was because of your victory." She moved so they lay face to face. "I could see a light in your eye that has never been there before. A fire."

When Jaime had returned to her that night, the adrenaline and sense of power was still coursing through him and the sight of his beautiful wife – so happy to see him - filled him with arousal. He'd all but ripped off her clothes, growling as he stripped her naked and took her. He'd always been gentle with her, but tonight he could not resist his more animal instincts. And she'd not been scared of his wanton desire for her. If anything, it seemed to excite her to see how much he wanted her.

He felt her hand slide down his back and over the curve of his ass as she moved closer to him, her breasts brushing against his chest. "There seemed to be a bit of fire in you as well tonight, my lady. I don't know that you've ever made such noise as you did while riding my cock tonight."

Her mouth opened in shock and he could see she was appalled by his choice of words. "Do you think someone heard me?" she whispered.

He chuckled. "I'd expect so. The canvas walls are rather thin." Her face reddened in horror. "Don't worry, there are a few whores traveling with us…no way to be certain it was you."

"Why didn't you tell me to be quiet?"

Jaime had ceased to be annoyed by her lady-like tendencies. Now he found how easily she shocked rather adorable. "I like hearing you moan…especially when it's my name on your lips," he whispered. She shook her head in annoyance.

_I feel so alive right now. _His whole life, the only times Jaime had felt truly alive were when he was fighting or fucking. Tonight he had both. And he felt like himself – the self he was before being maimed. He never thought he would again when he lost his sword hand. For so long, he'd believed that his life had ended when his hand was cut off.

Jaime carefully removed his golden hand, and looked at the stump that remained. He'd never really looked at it. He felt Sansa move closer to him and gently stroke his hair. "You put on a brave face, but I know that you how difficult it has been for you…not being able swing a sword. Thinking you were useless and a cripple. I've…I've prayed to the Warrior every day for you," she whispered, embarrassed.

"Why?"

"Because I could see that you were hurting. I could see in your eyes how much it hurt you – shamed you – when someone would look at your golden hand or…say something about it."

Jaime was surprised she had noticed. He thought he had done a better job of hiding how much it bothered him. How much it cut away at his ego. Jaime had never realized how prideful he was until Vargo Hoat made him a cripple. Between Cersei's mockery and the uselessness of his left hand, Jaime had been filled with pain and shame.

"After the Bloody Mummers cut off my hand they…they burned the stump to sear the bloody wound. Days after they had snuffed out the torch they used…I could still feel the fire lancing up my arm and my fingers twisting in the flames. The fingers I no longer had."

He'd never told Sansa what he'd been through, but he wanted her to know.

"I never knew there could be such pain. My world shrunk to the throb of agony that was my phantom hand. They had hung it around my neck on a cord, so it dangled down against my chest. In mockery of the man that I was. One night, I finally decided to just go ahead and die."

"What changed your mind?" she whispered, kissing his forehead.

"Thinking about the only people in the world I loved."

"Cersei and Tyrion," she whispered.

He nodded. "I knew that I had to live for them. To see them again. So I forced myself to eat, to endure the beatings and humiliation. I would have given anything for a moment's kindness or a gentle touch. But there was none. Only more pain and cruelty. And when I arrived at Harrenhal they took me to their maester. I refused to take any milk of the poppy as he cut away the dead skin and poured boiling wine over the wound. I was afraid he would take my arm off…The wound was infected and…I don't know how I didn't die. I just thought about my brother and sister. That I had to survive for them. And when I finally made it back to King's Landing and went to Cersei…"

"She was with another man," Sansa finished quietly, wiping away the tears in her eyes.

"Though, now I know why I was spared," he whispered, kissing her softly as his hand moved beneath the furs to her belly. "I felt so worthless and humiliated and then…I saw you. I saw Joffrey hurting you. And I knew what you felt – your fear and pain. Do you understand now why…when I returned to King's Landing…why I needed to protect you?"

She nodded, pulling him into her arms.

"If I had to lose my hand, in order to get you, and our little cub…then I believe it was worth it." Jaime rested his head against Sansa's breasts, his hand resting on her belly, as she stroked her hand through his hair. _I always thought I was meant for Cersei but I was wrong. _He kissed Sansa's breast, over her heart and closed his eyes. _I'm meant for this sweet girl who carries our child._

…

_Next Chapter: Casterly Rock_


	35. Chapter 35

_Thanks for continuing to read and review. I hope that I did the description of Casterly Rock justice, since we never see it or hear about it with much detail in the book. I did a bit of research on the internet of pictures that have been done of what readers think Casterly Rock looks like, and took my inspiration from that. Let me know your thoughts._

…

Chapter 34

Jaime had assured Sansa that they would reach Casterly Rock by nightfall when he'd helped her into her carriage that morning. She and Roslin had been watching through the windows for most of the day and they had both noticed that they were getting closer to the water.

"Have you ever seen the Sunset Sea?" Sansa asked in excitement.

Roslin shook her head. She'd been quiet for most of the ride that day and Sansa felt bad for her. Edmure had not spoken to her the entire week they were traveling, and she could see that it hurt Lady Roslin. Sansa had thought that when she told her Uncle Edmure that Roslin cared for him – how she'd prayed for a girl in the belief that it would save his life – that he would seek her out. She thought he would at least see her and ask after the child she carried. But he had not asked Jaime to bring Roslin to him. Not once. She could see how much it weighed on Roslin that the father of the child she carried did not wish to see her.

Sansa's thoughts were interrupted when their carriage came to a stop. She stretched to look out the window, but there was no castle in sight. _I wonder why we've stopped?_ There was a knock on the carriage door, and Sansa saw Jaime standing outside. She raised the lock on the carriage door, allowing him to open it. He stuck his head in, nodding at Roslin. "Forgive me, Lady Roslin, but I shall require my wife's company for the last few minutes of our journey." He held his hand out to her and Sansa took it, not sure why he wanted her out of the carriage.

"Are you going to make me walk?" she asked jokingly.

He smirked. "You're going to ride Honor with me."

She touched her stomach and looked at him uncertainly. "Is that a good idea?" she whispered.

"You'll be safe," he said, mounting his horse once again and holding his hand out to her. She hesitantly took his hand and put her foot in the stirrup, allowing Jaime to help her settle in front of him on Honor. She patted the horse's mane and felt Jaime wrap an arm around her to support her. "We'll ride slowly. I wanted to be with you when you saw Casterly Rock for the first time," he said softly.

Sansa could see that many of the Lannister soldiers had already proceeded ahead. As had the prisoners. And her mother. Though, Arya had waited for Sansa and Jaime. As Jaime's horse slowly began moving them over the hill, towards Casterly Rock, Sansa leaned back against Jaime's chest, feeling his warmth against her back. She pulled her wool cloak tight around her and rested her hands on his arm. She had never been much of a horsewoman, but she felt safe riding Honor, nestled in Jaime's arms.

"There is your home, my sweet," he murmured in her ear, with a soft kiss.

Sansa clutched his arm in excitement as the castle came into view. Jaime had told her that Casterly Rock was built into a great stone mountain, but she had no idea how great a mountain it really was. The Rock rose hundreds and hundreds of feet into the air and she could see the Sunset Sea beyond. Though it was getting to be winter, and the air was quite cold, it was a clear day and the sun was setting behind Casterly Rock, turning it a golden red, as Jaime had described to her. _It's so beautiful._

As they rode through Lannisport, Sansa couldn't take her eyes off the enormous fortress before her that was to be her home. Though the Rock was now a castle, it still looked like a natural rock formation. It was only when she looked closely that Sansa could make out the battlements miles up in the sky and the clusters of windows dotting the Rock. _I'm Lady of all that – of all of Casterly Rock._

They neared the water and Sansa saw two massive carved lions carved flanking the entrance to the road which led to Casterly Rock. As they approached the Lion's Mouth – the entrance to Casterly Rock – Sansa glanced over at Arya and could see her sister's excitement at the sight of Casterly Rock, as well as the awe of her friend Gendry riding beside her. Arya had always interested in hearing about great battles and great knights. She expected her sister knew quite a bit about Casterly Rock already. Sansa held tight to Jaime, anxious to see inside the great fortress.

"Where will my bedchamber be?" Arya called over to Jaime as Sansa rolled her eyes. "Can it be at the top? Overlooking the sea?" Arya had ridden over so she was walking her horse right beside Jaime's. "Will I be able to go wherever I want?" Arya asked curiously.

"In time. Best not to go off on your own at first. It's easier to get lost in the Rock than it was in King's Landing. Lady Alys, the wife of my father's – of _my_ steward, will see to it that you are given a bedchamber for the night. Near your mother. If there's another you come to prefer, it can always be moved. We'll discuss where you may explore in the morning."

"All right," she said sullenly, turning her horse back to where Gendry was.

"Welcome home," he whispered in Sansa's ear.

She glanced back at Jaime, smiling brightly. "It's so beautiful. It's so big…I don't know that I'll ever learn my way around."

She felt the rumbling in his chest as he chuckled. "I assure you, my sweet, you will do just fine. You are Lady of that Castle and everyone there shall see to your happiness." She smiled to herself as he kissed beside her ear and held her tightly as they rode through the Lion's Mouth, into the castle. She had known that the entrance to Casterly Rock was called the Lion's Mouth, but she had not known why until she saw it herself. There was, in fact, a great lion head carved into the side of the mountain – the only way into the fortress by land. The lion had its head thrown back as it roared and she could see part of the massive, gilded bars that would be lowered to close the entrance in times of war, which gave the appearance of the lion's fangs.

Sansa looked over at Arya again and saw a delighted smile on her face as she looked up at the Lion's Mouth, her head tilted back so far to look above her that Sansa was certain her sister was about to fall off her horse. They traveled through a long tunnel, once inside the Rock, and there were several different paths that could be taken. Jaime proceeded straight ahead, traveling upward and deep into the Rock.

Sansa felt her heart fluttering in excitement and nervousness as they neared the entrance to the living quarters – where she, Jaime and their child would live. Though she'd never been to Casterly Rock before, Sansa already felt safe. She felt as if nothing could harm her here. She'd not felt that way about any place other than Winterfell. _Perhaps this will come to be as much my home as Winterfell._

….

As they roade into the courtyard, their party had been greeted by Jaime's steward and his wife, Lady Alys. She was a kind older woman who had been good friends with Jaime's mother. She'd embraced Jaime warmly, and Sansa as well, when Jaime introduced her as his wife. She'd welcomed them both home before Arya and Roslin were turned over to her. She ushered them down a long hallway, taking them to their chambers as Arya peppered her with questions about Casterly Rock.

Jaime chuckled as he took Sansa's hand. "Lady Alys will have her hands full with your sister, I fear. You'll meet the rest of the staff in the morning. You must long for a real bed after more than a month of traveling. You can get some rest before dinner. Shall I escort you to our chambers?"

Sansa smiled and nodded, allowing Jaime to escort her through the grand halls of Casterly Rock. She was glad that Jaime was walking with her, or she might well have fallen on her face. Sansa couldn't stop looking at the high ceilings and the paintings on the walls.

"Here are our rooms," Jaime said, leading her down a side hallway. There was a huge window cut into the Rock at the end of the hall, flooding it with light and gilded doors dotted the hallway. Jaime told her what was behind each door they passed. He opened one door for her, giving her a glimpse of whites, and pinks, and aqua blues. "This was my mother's sitting room and now it will be yours. There's a beautiful view of the sea. I thought you could sit there and do your sewing, overlooking the water. My mother…she used to sit in here a lot and…Cersei and I would sit on the rug at her feet playing."

He closed the door softly and she could see that the room held fond memories for him. He never spoke much of his mother. Or of his childhood with Cersei. She expected that he never mentioned his twin because of what their relationship had become – that he did not wish to upset her by speaking about the sister who had been his lover. But Sansa knew that most of his memories of growing up at Casterly Rock must involve Cersei.

"What's this room?" she asked as they passed the next door.

Jaime smiled. "That is the nursery. The room is bare, awaiting your directions to the staff. I had most of our rooms redone before we arrived but, I thought you would wish to make the selections for the baby's room yourself." They continued walking down the hallway, stopping before a large gilded door. Jaime reached for the door knob, opening it for her. "I wrote ahead and asked that my mother's old chambers be remade for you. They had been locked up for the more than thirty years since she died."

Sansa walked in ahead of him. She didn't know where to look first, or what to touch first. The room was decorated in Stark greys and silvers, with buttery yellows, which represented Lannister gold. There was a huge bank of windows overlooking the sea, with a massive bench, covered in silver-grey velvet in front of it. The bed had a canopy draped in silks and there was a large dressing table, covered with mirrors and bottles containing she knew not what.

"Do you like it? I wasn't sure if you would rather have chosen the furnishings yourself-"

"No," she said, turning to Jaime. "It's perfect." She walked over to a door, her hand resting on the crystal knob. "What's in here?"

"Why don't you look?"

She opened the door and gasped. It was a huge closet, with new gowns lining both sides, and racks of slippers on the back wall of the closet. "Oh, Jaime…" She felt tears coming to her eyes and knew it was silly to cry over something so frivolous as an elegant bedroom and pretty dresses. But Joffrey and Cersei had made her disbelieve in beauty and romance. They had made her think she was stupid to ever think that she would marry a man who would love and treasure her. Her time in the capitol had made her bury that dream deep inside.

Even when she married Jaime, her only hope had been that he wouldn't beat her. She had never thought he could love her. "You didn't have to do this, Jaime," she whispered. "I just wish to be with you. I don't need such extravagance."

"You deserve it. I should tell you, the staff here is aware of your pregnancy. Your seamstress needed to know so your new gowns would actually fit. You are growing rather rapidly," he said jokingly, kissing her cheek.

Sansa leaned back against his chest, her eyes still scanning over the contents of the closet. "Jaime, I could not imagine a lovelier room. It's everything I could ever…thank you."

She turned in his arms to face him, tilting her chin up for a kiss. There was a knock on the door and Jaime bid whomever it was to enter. One of his soldiers walked in with a large gilded chest. "Where would you like this, my lord?"

Jaime released her and walked toward his soldier. "Right here," he said, gesturing to a small table beside Sansa's dressing table. The soldier did as he asked and left, bowing to both of them.

"What's that?" she asked curiously, approaching Jaime.

"Go ahead and open it. It's yours." Jaime handed her a small key and Sansa smiled, excitedly unlocking the chest and lifting the lid. She gasped at the sight of the jewelry inside – the diamonds and rubies sparkling back at her. She glanced back at Jaime in question.

"These were all my mother's. They belong to the Lady of Casterly Rock." Jaime kissed the top of her head. "And now they are yours. Come, sweet girl, there's more to see."

Sansa reluctantly left the jewel chest and followed Jaime to a door on the other side of the bedchamber. She followed him inside a huge bathing room. The floors, walls and ceiling were all covered in white marble. There was a large bathtub in front of a window overlooking the sea.

"And my chambers are right through here." Sansa slowly followed him through the other door. Jaime's chamber was darker and more masculine than hers, with deep, Lannister red bedding and draperies. The bed was even larger than the bed in her chambers, with a massive post on each corner and crimson velvet drapes hanging from the canopy.

Sansa knew it was silly, but she felt a bit stricken. It had not occurred to her that she and Jaime would have separate bedchambers. Since their marriage six months ago, they had always shared a bed and Sansa was used to sleeping in his arms. It was where she felt safest. _I suppose he's not far away_. She knew that most lords and ladies had separate bedchambers. That men would come to their wives' chambers when they wished to bed them. _Though Jaime does make love to me nearly every night. Perhaps he will come to my chamber most nights and stay afterwards and sleep beside me._

She heard Jaime chuckling and looked up to meet his gaze. "I expect you to be here, in my bed, every night, Sansa." She blushed, realizing he could read on her face what her thoughts were. She wished she weren't so weak – that she didn't long for Jaime's presence as much as she did. He sat on the edge of the bed, pulling her onto his lap and kissing her softly. "This is _our_ bedchamber. You are always welcome here."

Sansa leaned against him, cuddling against his chest as his arms enveloped her, surrounding her with his warmth. "I like it here," she said quietly.

"Good." He kissed her again before sliding her off of his lap. "Why don't you go back to digging through all of the treasures in your chamber, and I'll meet you back here in an hour or two."

"Where are you going?"

"My father…his bones need to be laid to rest in the crypts beneath the Rock. Beside my mother. I won't be too long."

"Would you like me to go with you?" she asked quietly.

"I'd never ask you to help bury the man who orchestrated your brother's murder."

Much as Sansa despised what Lord Tywin did to her brother…she knew Jaime loved him. And that it had to be difficult to bury him and to go into the crypts where his mother was buried. "I'm going with you," she said, rising to her feet. "You're not asking me. I insist." She walked over and rested a hand on his chest. "I was all alone when my father was…I didn't get to bury him. But I was left alone to mourn him. I'd never do that to you, Jaime. I'm here for you. And I want to be with you when you lay your father to rest."

She could see Jaime struggling for the words to thank her for her small sacrifice for him. "I…Thank you," he whispered.

She removed her hand from his chest and took his hand. "You'll have to lead the way to the crypts," she said gently.

He smiled softly and squeezed her hand. She started walking towards the door when Jaime pulled her back, into his arms. "I…I don't deserve you, Sansa." She could hear the emotion in his voice and wrapped her arms around his neck, holding him close.

"I love you. And there is no one I would rather be with, Jaime," she whispered. She felt his arms tighten around her and she closed her eyes, resting her head against him and breathing in his scent. As she stood there with Jaime's arms around her, feeling his heart beat beneath her ear, Sansa felt completely safe.

…..

_Next chapter: Jaime & Edmure speak about Roslin_


	36. Chapter 36

_Thanks for reading & reviewing. I never get tired of receiving your feedback on the story and hearing what you would like to see happen. I may not include everything and it may take a while to include your requests, but you never know…there's still a lot of ground to cover._

_In this chapter, we're still on the first night at the Rock, with everyone settling in and getting their bearings in the Lannister stronghold…_

….

Chapter 36

Jaime kept his arm around Sansa as they watched the silent sisters place Lord Tywin's bones inside the crypt where his mother already rested. Each former Lord of Casterly Rock shared a crypt with his Lady Wife and with his children, when they died in childhood. The darkness and the dank smell reminded Jaime of his imprisonment in Riverrun. Jaime barely heard the Septon of Lannisport as he blessed both sets of bones before four of Jaime's soldiers moved the heavy marble slab back to cover his parents' remains forever.

Jaime still found it difficult to believe that his father was actually dead. Tywin Lannister had been an immortal figure in Jaime's life. When he was a child, he had both loved and feared his father. He supposed that had not changed when he became an adult. Though Lord Tywin was a hard man – and difficult to love – Jaime did love him. He had cared about his father's opinion and wanted his respect. He supposed he should take comfort in the fact that he had finally pleased his father before he died – by marrying Sansa and taking his place as heir to the Rock.

He continued staring at the marble slab, feeling Sansa's hand resting on his chest, as he remembered when his mother died. Jaime didn't remember much about Lady Joanna. He remembered her smile, her gentle touch and her laugh. He remembered her glittering green eyes, which he saw whenever he looked in the mirror. Or looked in his twin's eyes. He remembered sitting on his mother's lap in her sitting room as she held his tiny hand against her belly, letting him feel Tyrion kick. He had been so excited about becoming a big brother. He recalled that Cersei had been largely indifferent – even at that age she only enjoyed the company of Jaime and their parents.

Jaime remembered when his mother died. He and Cersei had sat outside his mother's bedchamber for hours and hours, praying as they listened to her scream in pain and watching the servants carry out sheets covered in blood. Then the screams stopped and it was just quiet. Jaime remembered his father and Lady Alys going into his mother's chamber and coming out with fear in their eyes. Jaime had cried and cried when his father finally told them their mother was dead. And Lord Tywin had told him that he was never to cry again. He said that tears were a sign of weakness and no Lannister man was to be weak. Certainly not the heir to Casterly Rock.

He was brought back to the present at the sound of Sansa asking that they be left alone. Jaime watched as the silent sisters, the septon and his soldier quietly left the crypt, so only he and Sansa were standing beside his parents' resting place. He felt her hand rubbing over his chest in soft circles as he held her against his side.

"Do you wish to say something or…" she asked quietly.

He shook his head. "I know I should say a prayer for them but…I've not prayed since she my mother died. I don't know how anymore. And I suppose it's blasphemous to pray when you don't believe it."

Sansa stepped toward the steps of the crypt where flowers and other offerings were laid. She knelt down and looked at him expectantly, holding her hand out to him. He knelt beside her, holding her hand as Sansa bowed her head.

He listened as she prayed to the Mother to look over Lady Joanna. She prayed that his mother rested in peace, and that she would watch over and protect the babe growing inside her. He listened as Sansa prayed to the Stranger that his father and mother find one another in the afterlife. And that his father would finally have peace knowing that Jaime was Lord of the Rock and that his heir would be born soon.

Jaime looked at her in wonder, not knowing how she could pray for anything of the sort for a man who had caused such destruction to her family. Sansa looked up and met his eyes, a gentle smile on her face. "Help me up? It's starting to be a bit of a challenge."

Jaime smirked, and stood, lifting her to her feet.

"Are you all right?" she asked softly.

He nodded, offering her his arm and leading her out of the crypts. "How could you say those things? How could you pray for my father like that after all he's done?"

"Lord Tywin is the reason we are married. If it weren't for him we would never have fallen in love. And we would not have made this baby. For that alone, I will always be grateful to him." _She's such a sweet, perfect angel. _Sansa leaned against him as they climbed the stairs and walked through the halls of Casterly Rock. "What was it like growing up here?"

He knew that she must be thinking about their child growing up in the enormous castle. He smiled sadly, covering her small hand with his own. "After my mother died…my father spent most of his time in King's Landing. He was Hand of the King before I was even born, but after she died he threw himself into his work even more and rarely came here. He loved my mother very much and...I expect it was difficult for him to be here without her."

"So who took care of you?"

He shrugged. "There were servants to feed us and make sure we have clean clothes but…we mostly took care of ourselves. Sometimes, father would take us to Kings Landing, and Lady Alys and her husband were here but, they weren't expected to care for us. Lady Alys tried. She was close to my mother but…Cersei pushed her away and out of solidarity, I resisted her efforts to mother me. Maester Merlon was here, essentially running the castle in my father's absence. And Lady Genna would come for a month every now and then but, mostly, we were on our own."

"Is that why you're so unruly?" she asked with a smile.

He smirked back at her. "Perhaps it is." _Perhaps it's why I don't know how to let someone take care of me._ "But our little lion will be taken care of by the both of us. This child will be well-cared for and well-loved, Sansa. Though, perhaps just as unruly."

She smiled and leaned against him. "And now, you'll be well cared for here, too."

He met her eyes and smiled. "You're the one who will need taking care of for a while," he said, gesturing toward her belly. She wore a cape now, otherwise her protruding stomach would be quite obvious. Jaime had finally written to King's Landing a few days earlier announcing that the heir to Casterly Rock would be born less than four moons hence. Jaime had written to Tommen, his King, though he knew Cersei would read the letter. He'd not received any response as of yet. He couldn't help wondering what Cersei would feel when she learned that Sansa carried his child.

"It must have been difficult, to grow up without a mother," she said quietly.

Jaime thought about it. "Yes. I don't know any different but…I expect my life would have been quite changed if my mother had lived."

"Do you think you and…the queen would have had a different relationship?" she whispered, unable to look at him as she spoke the words.

Jaime had often wondered that same thing. He'd been such a little boy when Lady Joanna had died. His father was many things but warm was not one of them. The only female affection, the only comfort he received, was from Cersei. He supposed being motherless left him more receptive to her charms. "I don't know," was all he said as they continued walking. "I know my mother would not have wanted the Kingsguard for me. She would have wanted me to marry, to have children…to take my place as Lord of the Rock. I expect she would be quite happy with the turn my life has taken since you. She'd be happy to know you."

Sansa smiled sadly. "It's important to have a mother," she whispered. He knew she was thinking about how she'd lost the affections of her own mother. _She must have questions about her pregnancy or childbirth that she would wish to speak to her mother about_. She'd not said anything at the time, but he knew she'd had questions before their wedding night – questions about sex – that she'd been too embarrassed to ask him. Questions that she would have asked her mother, had she been around. "Roslin doesn't have her mother or the father of her child to talk to. Why won't my uncle at least see her?"

"I don't know. He may feel guilty that he was bedding her while your brother died."

"She's so sad," Sansa murmured, holding his arm. "I'm glad that I have you Jaime. I'm glad that you love me. I'd be so afraid to have this child alone. Without you."

He leaned over and kissed the top of her head. "I'll stay with you the whole time, when the babe comes."

"Promise?"

"Of course, I promise. I pity the person who tries to keep me out of the birthing chamber."

…..

Jaime had a quiet dinner alone with Sansa before sending her back to their chambers, with the promise to join her shortly. He wanted to be sure that Lord Tully and Lady Catelyn had settled into the section of the castle he had set aside for the hostages. Lady Catelyn, Edmure & Arya were in the sitting room nearest their own bedchambers, with several guards ensuring that they remained in that section of Casterly Rock that Jaime had designated for their living quarters. Arya was the only one he would allow to venture out to see Sansa.

Lady Roslin had asked to eat alone in her bedchamber, declining an invitation to dine with Jaime and Sansa. He could scarce blame her, with the way Edmure had ignored her existence for the past week.

Jaime stood in the doorway of their sitting room and saw that Arya was poking into the fire with her little sword. He watched Lady Catelyn's eyes narrow when she observed his appearance, though she didn't address him.

"Where's Gendry?" Arya asked when she noticed his appearance. "And when may I explore the Rock?" He could see that she was annoyed to be kept in the main living areas.

"Your friend's chamber is down near the forge. I can have you shown the way there tomorrow." That seemed to satisfy her and she turned her attention back to the fire. "Lord Tully, may I have word with you privately?"

Edmure reluctantly followed Jaime into the hallway. "Are you ever planning to speak to your lady wife? Or was this some sort of punishment for her, taking her from the Twins – away from her family - and then ignoring her?" He could see that Lord Tully had not expected this to be the topic of conversation and was at a loss for words.

"I - I did not intend to hurt Lady Roslin by bringing her here. Would you expect me to leave the child she carries – my child - to Walder Frey?"

"So you wish her here only until she births? Then what? Do you think I will take the child away from her?"

"That's not what I wish."

"Then what do you wish for? I'm responsible for her – she's not a hostage, she is my guest. And your refusal to speak to her upsets her. More importantly, it upsets my lady wife. They've formed something of a friendship. If nothing else, I suppose they have being ignored by Tully's in common. And Sansa would see you treat your wife kindly. Sansa would never bring it up to you, she's far too well-mannered. But I'm not."

"I may be your prisoner, Kingslayer but you can't dictate my relationship with my wife." Jaime merely glared at the man in annoyance and saw the moment he broke, pain taking over his anger. "I've not even seen Roslin since I was pulled from our marriage bed and dragged, naked, to the great hall to see my King's mutilated body. Walder Frey took great pleasure in making sure I knew Robb was killed as I fucked his daughter. And that she knew it was happening."

Jaime sighed. "If you can't forgive her, then you should have left her at the Twins. And if you can, then you best pull yourself together, act like a man and forgive her now. Yes, the Red Wedding was a horror, but there's nothing that can be done to change it now. And if you honestly think that a scared teenage girl would have been able to thwart Walder Frey's plan, you're a bigger fool than I ever dreamed."

Edmure turned from Jaime in anger and proceeded into his bedchamber. _Hopefully the idiot will realize that he's acting a fool and go to his wife._ Jaime sighed and turned to make his way back to his and Sansa's suite of rooms.

"Kingslayer!"

He considered ignoring Lady Stark, but he turned and regarded her with a raised eyebrow. "What can I do for you, Mother Stark?" He could scarce hold back his laughter at her expression. He knew that he shouldn't taunt her over his marriage to Sansa, but he couldn't resist.

"How long do you plan to keep us here?"

"I don't know. How long did your husband hold Theon Greyjoy hostage? Eight years was it?" She glared at him silently. "As I've already told your brother, once the war ends, you could perhaps be granted a parole. But I don't expect Stannis Baratheon or Balon Greyjoy to go down easily. The Realm is in for a long war. And I'm afraid you are in for a long stay at the Rock." He turned his back on her once again.

"Where are you keeping Sansa?"

He was not surprised that she asked about her daughter. "She's quite comfortably settling into her new home," he said, turning to face her again. "And I will never again allow you to hurt my wife with your cruel words."

"You could end all of her suffering by giving her back to her family. She's been separated from me long enough."

"Oh, are you her family now? From what I understood, she was no longer your daughter."

Lady Stark had at least calmed down enough that she appeared to regret her words to Sansa. "Will you allow her to rejoin her family?"

"Are you asking to speak with her again?"

"I'm asking you to give her back to me." She looked down, emotion apparent on her face. "You can have the child she carries, when the time comes. You'll have your heir. Your claim to Winterfell. You don't need Sansa anymore."

"Do you think so little of Sansa that you cannot believe she'd be valued for more than her womb?"

"It's you that I think so little of."

Jaime supposed he shouldn't be surprised that Lady Stark refused to believe that he actually loved Sansa. He knew that she saw him as a monster. A part of the family that had killed her son and husband. She must know that he had fathered Cersei's children. He expected that Lady Stark believed him incapable of love. "You forget that Sansa loves me. She does not wish for us to be parted."

"She's still a child. She doesn't know what real love is. She sees a handsome knight who gives her pretty things. In time, she'll learn that there's much more to love and marriage. That life isn't a romantic song."

"I assure you, my lady, she's learned that all too well. It occurs to me that you only know the girl she was when she left Winterfell. She may have been a silly young girl then. I really don't know. I only know the woman she is now. She's a kind, generous wife. She has tremendous strength and bravery. There are many things about her to admire. She certainly is not a silly, frivolous girl who would give her heart to any man who gave her a pretty bauble. She values kindness and affection above any jewel I could give her. You do realize you are allowing your hatred for me to deprive you of knowing the woman Sansa has become."

It didn't appear as if Lady Catelyn had heard anything he said. She was still fixated on separating he and Sansa. "I own, it would hurt her at first. To be separated from you, but she'll get over it. It will be easier if you let her stay here with us now, in this part of the castle. It will be easier on her if you stop going to her bed and confusing her emotions. She'll come to see that the best thing will be to give you the babe and move on with her life."

"I'm going to pretend you didn't say any of that. And you are never to suggest to Sansa that she should give up being a mother to our child. Whatever you think, family is very important to her. She's looking forward to having her own family. To holding her child in her arms. And I won't let you ruin that for her."

"She can have other children."

Jaime shook his head at her in frustration, wondering if she realized how irrational she was being. "Tell me, Lady Catelyn, in your experience, are children so easily replaced?"

"No they're not. I mourn everyday for the three sons that I've lost." Her gaze hardened again. "Though, if you'd had your way, I suppose I'd have lost one of them much sooner. I believe if it were up to you, my son Bran would have died when he was _pushed_ from that tower."

Jaime felt his heart drop as she brought up the Stark child's fall, though he was skilled enough at hiding his emotions that his face betrayed nothing. He had tried to tell Sansa about his most shameful act but, she had refused to hear it. She had insisted that she only cared about their future and about how he treated her. That she didn't care about the past. Jaime had wanted to try again to tell her what he'd done, but then he'd learned she was carrying his child. He became terrified of losing her and the chance to give his child a loving family, if she learned the truth. So, he had not made another attempt to confess his misdeeds to Sansa.

Now, he feared her mother would enlighten her about his role in her brother's accident in an attempt to separate them. Not that Lady Stark could possibly know for certain. Jaime would have thought she would let the issue drop after all the trouble her rash decision to take Tyrion prisoner had caused. It appeared he was wrong. "Try to enjoy your stay at the Rock, Lady Stark," he said, ignoring her questions. He turned on his heel, regretting his decision to liberate Lady Stark from Walder Frey's dungeon.

…..

Jaime was in a foul mood by the time he reached the large suite of rooms he shared with Sansa. Lady Catelyn's words had both angered and terrified him. He wasn't sure Sansa would ever forgive him if she learned what he had done to her brother. As Jaime walked the halls of the Rock alone he had allowed his mind to wander. Every room held memories of his childhood. Memories of Tyrion – the brother who now hated him and who he would likely never see again. And memories of Cersei. His twin. And his lover. It was as if Cersei were a ghost, trailing after him through the halls of Casterly Rock. It was the ghost of their relationship - and what he had done to protect that relationship - which now threatened his marriage. It was that ghost which could well kill Sansa's love for him.

He ripped open the door to his chamber and all but slammed it shut in anger, banging his fist against the door in frustration. He heard a gasp of fear from his bed and was surprised at the sight that greeted him as he looked around the room. There was a fire roaring in the fireplace, a score of candles burning on the mantle and his little wife was curled up on his bed. Sansa had clearly been waiting up for him.

"What's the matter?" she asked, her voice wavering in fear. Jaime met her bright blue eyes and felt his temper calm. He couldn't help being amused that after Lady Catelyn had asked him to let Sansa go – to stay out of her bed - he found her waiting for him in his. She was wearing a silky grey robe and, from the looks of it, nothing else. Her damp hair indicated that she had availed herself of the luxurious bath.

"I've had…it's been a trying day, sweet girl."

"I'm sorry," she said quietly. "I – I thought it would be all right if I waited here for you. You did say – "

He could see from her expression that she was embarrassed. _She thinks that I don't want her here. That I'd rather be alone. _He saw her move as if to leave and quickly wrapped his arm around her, keeping her on his bed. "You have nothing to be sorry for, Sansa." He kissed the top of her head and nuzzled against her neck. She smelled of lavender and pine. Jaime had asked his staff to procure some scents of the North for her and it appeared they had been successful. "You're just what I need to improve my mood."

He felt her relax. "So it's all right that I'm here?"

"You're always welcome in here," he murmured, his fingers absently twirling in her damp hair.

"Why are you so upset, my love?"

He sighed, not knowing what to say. He could see how much she wanted to make it better. He could see that his mood was also causing her distress. "It's...there are a lot of memories here. Of the past. Many that I would wish to forget."

She reached up and touched his cheek. "Perhaps we could make new memories here?" she offered quietly.

Jaime sat at the edge of the bed, just looking at her for a few moments, his heart pounding in his chest. _I can't lose this sweet girl's love. I'm not the same man that I was before her. I'm not the same man who pushed the Stark child from that tower._ Jaime knew he had changed. He knew that Sansa had changed him.

"I think that's a fine idea," he said, a soft smile on his lips. "Tell me, my lady…what can I do for you tonight? What memory would you like to make in here tonight?"

A blush rose on her cheeks. "I was hoping to sleep here with you…I don't think I'd be able to sleep without your arms around me."

"Just sleep?" he asked with a smirk, reaching over to run a finger over her ankle. "I think we can do better than that on your first night in our home." He leaned over and kissed her, closing his eyes briefly at the feel of her in his arms. He sat back and looked around the bedchamber. It was strange to him that his father's old chamber was now his own. He'd had nearly every surface changed, but it was still a bit unsettling. He looked over at Sansa. Her presence certainly alleviated any discomfort and made the room feel like his own. _I will make new memories here at the Rock with her. This is our home. _Jaime kissed her again before leaning over to unlace his boots.

She leaned back against the pillows and watched as Jaime took off his clothes, piece by piece, a smile playing at her lips. He could see the desire in her eyes and his anger was forgotten – replaced by arousal – by the time he removed his breeches. Her eyes roamed over his naked body as he climbed onto the bed. Jaime crawled towards her, leaning over and kissing her and inhaling her scent again. Sansa returned his kiss as her hands slid over his chest.

"You look so beautiful here, in _our_ bed. I didn't think it possible, but you are even more beautiful with our child growing inside you." Jaime pulled at the tie on her robe, opening it up to see her swollen belly and breasts. He ran his hand over the roundness of her belly and leaned in, kissing her stomach. He knelt over her just looking at her belly as he ran his hand over it, thinking about his child growing inside of her. He glanced up and met her eyes, smiling as he kissed her stomach again, and continued kissing a path up her body, pulling her robe open further as he moved up her body. When Jaime reached her mouth, Sansa sat up from the bed to meet him, slipping the thin fabric from her shoulders and wrapping her arms around his neck.

Jaime slid his hands – golden and flesh – down her body, sliding them under her bottom and holding her against him as he continued kissing her. He lowered his mouth to her breasts, gently sucking one of her nipples into his mouth. He smiled at her sigh of pleasure. Sansa wrapped her legs around his waist as Jaime suckled on her breasts. Jaime reached back and gently unwrapped her legs from around him, and placed her back on the bed as he moved down her body, kissing her thigh.

He met her eyes and saw her watching him, her lips wet with anticipation as he began to kiss between her thighs, his hand massaging one of her breasts. "Does that feel good, Sansa?" he murmured against her. He felt her tugging at his hair and continued to kiss and lick her, wanting to bring her pleasure. _She's had enough pain. She deserves a lifetime of pleasure. _

"Yes," she gasped. "Gods, Jaime…" Sansa moved her hips, pressing herself against his mouth. Her moans of pleasure had made him hard as a rock as he continued to lick and suck her pleasure spot. She began panting and moaning his name as she reached her peak.

Jaime moved to lie next to her, kissing and sucking at her neck, as he watched her chest rise and fall quickly. She turned to meet his eyes and leaned over to kiss him, sliding her hand through his hair. Sansa kissed him slowly and deeply, exploring his mouth with her tongue. Jaime had learned how much Sansa liked to be kissed. Sometimes she would curl up in his arms to kiss him and cuddle in his arms for hours. She broke their kiss and rested her forehead against his, the desire clouding her gaze. Jaime helped her climb on top of him.

Jaime groaned in pleasure as Sansa grasped his cock in her hand. She kept her eyes locked on his as she stroked up and down his shaft, until he closed his eyes, sighing in pleasure. He covered her hand with his own, stilling her movements. If she continued, he was going to spend in her hand. He saw her smile knowingly before raising up on her knees and guiding him into her. Jaime threw his head back as she lowered herself down and began rolling her hips.

Her hands rested on his chest to balance herself as she moved over him and Jaime thrust up into her, his hand on her waist to steady her as she set the pace of their lovemaking. It wasn't long before he felt his body tighten as it prepared for release. Jaime sat up, gripping her waist and thrusting into her as he buried his face against her neck. Sansa held him close as he moaned against her neck and emptied his seed inside of her. She kissed his temple, the side of his face, and his shoulders as she murmured over and over that she loved him, as he panted against her.

Once his breathing had slowed, Jaime gently lowered her onto the bed and lay down beside her, pulling off the golden hand and tossing it onto the vast expanse of bed behind her as Sansa curled up against him, kissing his chest and running her fingers over his chest and stomach and lower. He chuckled softly, enjoying her roaming hands on his body.

"I'm glad I'm here," she whispered. "With you."

He kissed the top of her head. "As am I. There's no one on this earth I would rather have here with me. Truly." He hoped that she knew how much loved her. "You deserve everything I can possibly give you. I know it doesn't make up for all that Joffrey and Cersei did to you – to hurt you and scare you. You know I'll do whatever I can to make up for what they've done. And for my own misdeeds," he whispered, absently stroking her hair.

Sansa tilted her head up to him. "Please don't punish yourself for the past anymore, Jaime. I told you…I only care about our future." He saw a strange look overtake her face as she looked down, placing her hand against her belly.

"What's wrong? Are you all right? Is it the babe?"

She smiled softly, nodding. "I think…I think it's moving." She took her hand off of her belly. "It feels like…fluttering wings or something." She took his hand and held it against her. After a few minutes Jaime looked at her with a raised eyebrow. "It'll do it again," she insisted. They sat in silence for several minutes before Sansa sighed in frustration and released his hand.

He chuckled and kissed her belly and then her lips. "There's plenty of time for me to feel the babe inside you. Your time won't come for several moons. Would it be all right if I settled for holding you?" She nodded, moving closer to him as Jaime reached for the furs and bedclothes to cover them. He closed his eyes once Sansa settled into his arms, resting her head on his chest and pressing her belly against his side.

Jaime vowed that nothing would separate him from Sansa and his child. _This our home now, Sansa. Yours and mine. We'll fill it with memories of nothing but happiness. _

…

_Next Chapter: Arya learns Sansa is pregnant (Yes, she's managed to hide it from her sister up to now)_


	37. Chapter 37

_Thanks you all of you who continue to enjoy this story. I love reading all of your comments and exploring the different characters and their relationships with one another. I was hoping with this chapter, to give Arya a better understanding of Sansa and why she loves Jaime as much as she does._

...

Chapter 37

Sansa snuggled closer to Jaime, burrowing her face against his chest. It was still dark out, as the sun had just begun to peek out on the horizon, and she wasn't ready to wake up yet. She felt Jaime's hand softly rub her back as his arm tightened on her waist, holding her against him. She kissed his chest and slowly moved her mouth up to his neck. She nuzzled against his neck and felt Jaime's hand move up to tangle in her hair and felt his mouth against her temple.

Jaime sighed in pleasure as he moved to kiss her mouth. "Good morning, beautiful girl," he whispered against her mouth.

"Good morning," she whispered back, wrapping her arms around his neck and returning his kiss.

He shifted to hold her fully in his arms as she cuddled under the furs. "Did you sleep well?" She nodded against him, resting her head against his chest. Jaime held her in his arms, kissing and touching her, as the sun rose over Lannisport. Sansa wished she and Jaime could stay as they were forever. Warm in their bed, buried under the furs and in each other's arms.

"I should go speak to my soldiers," he said reluctantly, as the daylight streamed in through the windows. "They are in need of a bit of direction, now that we've reached the Rock. I don't expect the war to come to us here, but they need to be prepared. And winter is coming, as you Starks are so fond of reminding us all," he said with a smile. The staff had begun to amass provisions and prepare the castle for winter, but there was still much to be done.

"Do you have to go now?" Sansa asked as Jaime slid from her arms.

He chuckled, leaning over to kiss her. "I can't spend all morning in bed with you. However sorely I am tempted. You stay here and rest. I'll come back for you in a few minutes and we'll go downstairs to break our fast. All right?" She nodded, curling up in the huge four-poster bed, watching him walk naked to his closet. She felt a bit warm and fought off the wave of desire that crashed over her. The past few weeks, Sansa had noticed that she was much more sexually aware of Jaime. _Why have I suddenly become so wanton?_

After Jaime left, Sansa snuggled under the covers and closed her eyes. She had not thought that she would like Casterly Rock as much as she did. She had feared it would remind her of King's Landing, but she was wrong. The Rock actually felt like home to her. _Perhaps because I know this is where my baby will be born. _ Sansa rubbed her hand over her belly as she thought about all of the efforts Jaime had made to ensure that she felt at home here. Not just making sure that she had beautiful rooms but showing her that she was not a guest here – but that she was the Lady of the Castle. She knew that Casterly Rock was hers and Jaime's.

"Sansa? Sansa?" Arya was calling from Sansa's bedchamber and she was about to get out of bed to speak to her when she saw Arya's head peek in the entrance to Jaime's bedchamber. "Sansa?"

Sansa slid back under the covers as her sister walked toward her. "How did you get in here?"

"I was looking for you and the Kingslayer said you were here."

"Ser Jaime," she corrected in annoyance. Sansa wasn't sure how to proceed, sinking further under the covers, embarrassed for her sister to find her naked in Jaime's bed. She knew it was silly, since Jaime was her husband, but she was uncomfortable with her little sister seeing her in such a state.

"Isn't that your bedchamber in there? Why are you sleeping here?"

"Jaime's my husband and I wanted to sleep next to him. I … I feel safer with him beside me." _That's true, at least._

Sansa could see Arya's eyes scanning over the bed and Sansa's robe discarded on the ground. "You're naked. Does he sleep naked too?"

_Oh, Gods. _"Why are you here so early?" Sansa asked, desperate to change the subject.

She saw that her sister was curiously looking around Jaime's bedchamber. "Mother's still sleeping and I saw _Ser Jaime _was awake." She picked up Jaime's sword. Or tried to at least, since it probably weighed half as much as she did. "How long are we going to stay here?" Arya asked, walking over and slumping down on the bed.

Sansa sighed, sitting up in the bed and wrapping a bedsheet around herself to cover her breasts. "Where would you propose to go?"

"Back home."

"That's not going to happen, Arya," she said gently. "Not for a long time. Winterfell is gone. Theon burned it to the ground. This is our home now."

"Maybe it's your home, but it's not mine. You're a Lannister, not me." Arya was quiet for a few moments as she studied her hands before looking back at her sister. "Sansa? You love the Kingslayer, don't you?" Sansa shot her a look. "All right, _Ser Jaime_. You're in love with Ser Jaime, aren't you?"

"Yes. He's been very kind to me," Sansa said quietly, hoping this wasn't going to go the way her conversation with her mother went on the topic of Sansa's feelings for Jaime.

"Is it because he's a knight? You always wanted to marry a knight."

She laughed. "No. It's true, I did always dream of marrying a handsome knight." _And Jaime does look quite dashing in his armor._ "Then I was…afraid of knights." Sansa twisted her fingers together nervously. "I don't love Jaime because he's a knight. I don't care about that."

"Then why? Mother said –"

"I don't want to hear anything mother has to say about Jaime." She wasn't going to allow her mother to turn her against Jaime. And she didn't want her to turn Arya against him either. Anymore than she already was, anyway.

"It's just…you said you loved Joffrey too, when-"

"Jaime is nothing like Joffrey," Sansa hissed, sitting on the edge of the bed and wrapping the bedsheet around her further. "Don't ever compare him to Joffrey. I want to show you something." Sansa could feel her chin quivering as she stood beside the bed, turning away from Arya. Sansa took a deep breath before uncovering herself to the waist, allowing Arya to see the scars covering her back.

She heard her little sister gasp, and Sansa bit her lip to keep from crying at how horrible her scars must be to shock Arya. She had not looked at them herself since the day she married Jaime. Sansa flinched at the feel of Arya's fingers on her back, tracing over her scars.

"How did you get these?" she asked quietly.

Sansa stared at the wall, letting her sister touch her scars. "When Robb won his first battle…Joffrey brought me before the entire court, as he sat on the throne, and he pointed a crossbow at me. He said that the queen wouldn't let him kill me because Robb had Jaime as a prisoner. But he said that he would punish me for Robb's victory. He had the Kingsguard rip off my clothes and made me stand there, naked, as they beat me before the court. It happened again and again. He would strip me and watch as they beat me or whipped me. The last time it happened…was the night Jaime returned to the Red Keep. And he saw what they were doing to me."

She turned around and faced Arya, clutching the bedsheet to her chest. "I was so humiliated, that Jaime saw me like that, naked and…bleeding, but he covered me with his cloak and he made them stop. He took me back to my chamber. He told his father that he would marry me. To protect me. Jaime promised me that no one would ever hurt me again. And they haven't. He never let Joffrey hurt me."

Sansa had started to cry and crawled back onto the bed. She felt Arya sit beside her, putting her arm around her. "You're safe now, Sansa. I won't let anyone hurt you."

"When Jaime… on our wedding night when Jaime first saw…" Sansa gestured toward her back. "I started to cry because Joffrey had left me scarred and I didn't want him to look at me. I didn't want him to think I was ugly. But Jaime told me I was beautiful...that I was strong." She wiped her eyes and sniffed. "Mother hates me and…you probably do too. But I love him. Jaime protected me and he made me believe that I was safe. And he…I need him," she whispered, looking down at her hands.

"I don't hate you," Arya whispered, hugging her. "I'm sorry, Sansa. I don't hate you."

Sansa wrapped her arm around Arya, taking some comfort from her sister. They had never been close growing up, but she took comfort from her presence. "Will you hand me that?" she asked, gesturing to her robe on the ground. Arya handed it to her and as Sansa put it on, she noticed Arya staring at her stomach. The baby inside her was growing so much, and her pregnancy was quite noticeable, especially without her clothes on. She had not told her sister that she was with child, and she supposed their mother had not spoken a word about it either, given her feelings about Sansa having Jaime's child.

"Sansa?" she asked in a small voice. "Are you…"

"Yes. I'm going to have a baby."

She saw her sister's eyes widen. "That's why you sleep here. So he can…fuck you?"

"Don't use that word."

"Fine, do you sleep here so he can _make love_ to you?"

"You're too little to talk about such things."

She could see that Arya was outraged at being told she was too little for anything. "Why? I've been a brothel. I've seen people fuck. It was dark, but I know that's what they were doing."

Sansa was shocked to hear such words from her little sister's mouth. "Well pretend you haven't. Don't ever speak of that again."

"Why not?"

Sansa sighed. "It's not a proper topic of conversation."

She heard Arya mumble something under her breath before she started looking curiously at her swollen belly again. "What does it feel like? To have a baby in your belly?"

Sansa smiled. "I felt it move last night…it's the first time I felt it. Mostly I feel tired. And hungry." She looked at Arya. "I was happy when I found out I had a baby growing inside me. I was so happy that I'll have a family again." Arya was quiet and continued to look at Sansa's swollen belly.

"Can I…can I touch it?" she asked, gesturing to her sister's stomach.

"If you wish. You can't feel anything yet… Jaime couldn't feel it move last night."

Arya hesitantly rested her hand on Sansa's stomach. "I don't remember when mother was with child. Do you?"

Sansa nodded. "With Rickon. She let me…feel him kick when he was inside her."

"I miss him," Arya whispered. "And Bran and Robb and Father."

"Me, too," she said, feeling tears form in her eyes as she thought about the family she had lost. She hesitantly hugged Arya, trying to comfort her.

"Can I write to Jon at the Wall?"

"I'll ask Jaime. Arya, will you please try to get along with him? Please?" She nodded, her eyes cast down. "He's important to me, Arya. He's someone who became my family when I had none. It's like how Gendry is important to you. "

"I don't fuck Gendry."

Sansa closed her eyes in annoyance. "I feel like I've returned at a bad moment," Jaime said with an amused voice from the doorway.

Sansa met his eyes and frowned, trying to convey that she did not wish for him to encourage Arya's filthy mouth and unladylike manners. He walked over slowly and seemed a bit concerned. He must see the unshed tears in her eyes. "Are you all right?"

"I was just telling Arya that she's going to be an Aunt."

He reached over and stroked Sansa's hair, looking at Arya carefully; no doubt gauging her reaction. "When will the baby come?" Arya asked.

"Not for a few months," Sansa answered and Arya nodded removing her hand from Sansa's belly.

"Would you like to break your fast with us this morning?" Jaime asked Arya.

She looked up at him, then at Sansa. "All right," she said quietly and Sansa smiled. She knew Arya was making the effort she had asked her to make.

"Why don't I head downstairs while you get ready. I'm sure Arya would like to keep you company. And I'll send Pia up to help you?"

Sansa nodded as he gently cupped her face. "Thank you."

"The guards will make sure you don't get lost finding your way to the dining room. Little sister, is there anything special you'd like for breakfast?"

Arya glared at him and shook her head no. "She likes ham," Sansa volunteered. "And I expect you haven't had any since leaving King's Landing." She didn't even want to think about what her sister had done to survive for the past year they had been separated.

"Ham it is," Jaime said, kissing the top of Sansa's head as he left.

"Thank you, Arya" Sansa said quietly. "Come on," she said, standing and taking her little sister's hand, leading her to her bedchamber. Arya had always hated watching Sansa get ready, but she'd been a bit more tolerant of late, since it did give them the chance to be together. They still got on each other's nerves, but they both appreciated having a sister again.

...

Sansa, Jaime and Arya sat in silence at one end of the long dining table breaking their fast. Sansa nibbled at her bread and sliced meat, glancing at Jaime beside her. She couldn't help feeling happy to be sitting at a meal with her husband and her little sister. Even if the conversation was a bit lacking. And awkward.

Lady Alys, the wife of Jaime's steward, walked in, following a maid who was carrying a plate of eggs. "Would you like some, my dear?" Lady Alys asked, sitting beside Sansa. "It would be good for the babe," she said quietly.

"All right." Sansa didn't know what she was supposed to do differently now that she was with child. She did have a larger appetite and she tired more easily. Sansa didn't know much about being pregnant. She didn't know if there were special things she was supposed to eat, or drink for the child. She didn't know if there were things she wasn't supposed to do. _Perhaps Lady Alys will answer my questions…since mother won't speak to me._

"It's so exciting, Sansa. I remember when Jaime was just a tiny little bundle in his mother's arms and now he's to be a father." She looked over at Jaime. "If Lady Joanna were still with us, she would be overjoyed. As would Lord Tywin." Lady Alys smoothed her hand over Sansa's shoulder before picking up her tea.

Jaime was rather fond of Lady Alys. Her husband spent most of his time holed up in his office in Casterly Rock, near the Maester. Jaime had told Sansa that his steward rarely left his office because he took his responsibilities as the steward of the Lord of Casterly Rock quite seriously. Jaime had said that Lady Alys would be able to help her familiarize herself with the castle, and answer any questions she had.

Jaime turned and considered Arya. "Little sister, did you know, I fought beside your father during the Greyjoy rebellion?"

She looked up at him, her curiosity and desire to hear a story about her father outweighing her annoyance at Jaime calling her little sister. "Where did you and my father fight?"

"We fought together in Pyke. At the end of the Rebellion, when we took the castle."

Sansa smiled to herself as he and Arya discussed the final battle of the rebellion and lowered her hand below the table, resting it on Jaime's knee and squeezing it in thanks. He met her eyes and smiled.

She felt Lady Alys watching her and turned her head. Sansa smiled at the kindness in the older woman's gaze. "I've arranged for a midwife to come from Lannisport to look at you and Lady Tully this morning. Afterwards, perhaps I could introduce you to your household staff."

She could feel Jaime's eyes on her, no doubt wondering if she would be all right on her own. Sansa realized that she had kept quite close to Jaime lately. _I need to be brave. This is my home and there's no reason be afraid. _She smiled brightly at Lady Alys. "Thank you. I would like that."

"I think perhaps I'll head to the armory and then to the training grounds," she heard Jaime muse, now that he saw she'd be safe and occupied for the morning.

"Where are the training grounds?" Arya asked curiously.

"Down on one of the lower levels of the Rock. Near the stables and exercise grounds for the horses."

"Are you practicing with Ser Ilyn?" Sansa asked.

"No. Ser Addam had accepted my challenge." Sansa looked at Jaime in surprise. "I thought…I should try a new opponent." She smiled, glad that he'd gained enough confidence, and that enough of his skill had returned, that he no longer felt the need to practice in secret.

"Can I go?" Arya's voice rang out as Jaime rose to his feet. Jaime and Sansa both turned to look at her. "Can I go with you to the training grounds? I just want to watch you fight."

"I suppose I can tolerate your company for a morning," Jaime said matter-of-factly as Sansa looked at him in annoyance, no doubt preferring to discourage the child's interest in the un-ladylike. Jaime leaned over and kissed her cheek. "Didn't you want us to get along better?" he whispered, kissing her once more before turning to leave. "Come along, little sister."

Sansa smiled nervously at Lady Alys as Jaime strode out of the dining room and Arya ran along beside him, annoyed at his insistence on calling her "little sister" but also thrilled at the prospect of watching real knights practice. _Oh, gods, I hope they don't kill one another._

_..._

_I'm trying to keep the story realistic in terms of Jaime and Arya's relationship. I think she would be intrigued by him (as she was when the royal family arrived at Winterfell) but not trusting anything Lannister after all that has happened. Let me know how you liked it!_

_Next Chapter: Jaime and Arya spend some time together_


	38. Chapter 38

_Thank you, readers, for the reviews and the follows. I hope you enjoy the Jaime/Arya interaction in this chapter. _

…

Chapter 38

Jaime and Arya walked the lengthy distance from the main dining room to the armory. As they walked up the long and winding path upwards to the indoor training grounds, Arya peppered him with questions about everything that they saw.

"How long did you have to practice to become the best swordsman in the Realm? How long would it take me?"

He smiled at her enthusiasm. "Sword fighting…it came easily to me. Ser Benedict Broom, the Master at Arms of the Rock, began teaching me when I was not all that much younger than you are now."

"It's not fair that girls have to learn to sew and run a household instead of how to hunt or fight." Jaime resisted telling her that Cersei had expressed a similar sentiment to him when they were children. He'd received his first sword when he was only seven years old, and Cersei had flown into a rage that he'd received a sword while she had received a doll.

"Are there any cats here?" she asked suddenly.

"Cats did you say?"

"Yes."

"You want a pet?"

"No. For me to chase." Jaime looked at her as if she were insane. "So I can practice being quick and quiet. You never did that?"

"I can't say that I ever did. I suppose there must be a cat or two running around here to keep the mice away." As Jaime and Arya stopped at the armory, Ser Benedict Broom regarded Jaime with a welcoming smile. "Lord Lannister. When they put that white cloak on you, I wondered if you would ever return to the Rock."

Jaime greeted the man fondly, patting him on the back. "It's been quite a long time," he said, happy to see the old knight. He forced himself to ignore the sympathetic look from his Master at Arms as he looked at Jaime's golden hand. _I'll show him that there's no need to pity me. I'll be the best in the realm again, if it takes the rest of my life._

"I was sorry to hear about Lord Tywin's passing. Though it's fortunate that you were released from the guard to take your place as Lord of the Rock. Who do we have here?" Ser Benedict asked, gesturing to Arya.

"This is Lady Arya Stark. Do you have a suitable practice sword for my little good-sister here?"

She looked up at him in surprise. "You're going to let me fight?

"I understand your father allowed you to have lessons?"

She nodded. "When we lived in King's Landing, Syrio Forel taught me how fight as a Water Dancer." Jaime had known Syrio Forel and had seen his teaching methods. Now he understood Arya's question about chasing cats. "When Queen Cersei ordered that Sansa and I be taken as hostages, he helped me escape the Red Keep. He fought five red cloaks with only a wooden sword. They must have killed him," she said quietly. "There were six of them…though he was winning when he ordered me to leave the Keep. Sansa told me that the Queen's men killed Septa Mordane, too. When she tried to protect Sansa from them."

Jaime met Ser Benedict's eyes. He knew the Master-at-arms was no fan of Cersei. He had always thought she distracted Jaime from his sword-fighting lessons and interfered with Ser Benedict's efforts to teach him discipline. And, for her part, Cersei had always resented the old knight for taking Jaime's focus away from her. She was always trying to lure Jaime away from the practice grounds.

Jaime reached for a bundle of quivers and a bow, which he handed to Arya. Sansa had shared quite a bit about her sister with him. He could see that his little wife wanted him to get along with Arya. Since he knew it would make Sansa happy, he was willing to make the effort. "Your sister tells me that you are an excellent markswoman. Would you mind showing me?" He could see her fighting a smile at his interest in her skills. No doubt her mother wanted her to dislike him. He could only imagine what Lady Catelyn had told the child about him.

"I suppose I shoot a target for you to see," she said with a deliberately bored tone.

Once they were laden down with weapons, Jaime and Arya continued walking uphill, deep into the Rock, towards the practice grounds. The indoor grounds were built along the entire length of the side of Casterly Rock overlooking Lannisport, with large barred windows carved into the rock, flooding the grounds with light.

Ser Addam Marbrand was already there. He smiled when he noticed Jaime's companion. "Are you teaching her to fight?"

Jaime glanced at Arya, who had already started chopping away at a practice dummy. "Ned Stark allowed her to have lessons back in King's Landing. I didn't see the harm. Though Sansa looked fit to be tied that I was bringing her here."

Ser Addam chuckled as Jaime took a few practice swings through the air, loosening up his muscles. "That little red-head of yours is quite the proper lady – not at all what I would have expected from your lady wife. She is a lovely girl. She seems to care for you a great deal. I must have promised her half a dozen times during our journey here that I would not allow you to be harmed. And I daresay you're rather smitten yourself."

Jaime smiled. "Sansa is very sweet." He turned his eyes to Ser Addam. "Don't think your admiration for my lady wife will make me go any easier on you."

Truth be told, Jaime was nervous to fight Ser Addam. He'd only beaten Ser Ilyn the one time, but he believed that he was improving and that he needed to spar with different partners, if he was ever to be the warrior he once was. Though, a small part of him worried that Ser Ilyn had let him win, despite the old knight's amusement at Jaime's failures. _What if I embarrass myself horribly?_

Jaime and Ser Addam had sparred more times than Jaime could count – they were childhood friends and had both been trained by Ser Benedict. They began their match slowly. He knew Ser Addam was giving him a chance to build his confidence before truly challenging him. It was humbling, but he knew it was an act of friendship by Ser Addam.

As he and Ser Addam circled around one another, Jaime saw Arya perched on the viewing platform, watching them battle, her eyes lit with excitement. _I remember when I found sword-fighting to be just as thrilling._

Before he lost his sword hand, Jaime could easily beat Ser Addam without so much as breaking a sweat. Now, it took all that he had – all of his skill and all of his energy – just to keep Ser Addam's sword from his throat. Never mind beating him. As difficult as it was, Jaime also found it exhilarating. Sword fighting had not been a challenge for him in years. It actually felt good to struggle and to see and feel improvement. They fought two matches, each winning one.

Ser Addam took his leave to command the soldiers according to Jaime's directions from the morning. "Thank you for the excellent match, Jaime."

"I look forward to repeating it," he said sincerely. Jaime watched as Ser Addam left and looked down at the hand he'd thought was useless. _I can work with this. _

"I fight with my left hand, too," he heard Arya say from her perch behind him.

Jaime smiled. "Do you? I'll have to watch your technique." He considered the child for a moment. "Would you care to practice with me?"

Despite her determination to remain distant from him, she couldn't keep the delighted smile off of her face as she scrambled down from her seat and picked up the practice sword he had given her. Jaime helped Arya a bit with her form before beginning to spar with her. He was relieved that it was not a struggle for him to maintain control of their match. His worst fear had been that the child would be able to easily best him. Though she had some skill and natural talent, Arya still had a lot to learn. She would have to rely on speed and technique, rather than brute force, since she was so small.

"Will you continue to practice with Ser Ilyn?" she asked curiously as she did a rather good job of fending off his attack.

"Who told you about that?" he asked.

"I followed Sansa the other night and saw you beat him. She told me that you've been practicing with him."

He nodded. "I have. But it doesn't appear to be necessary to practice in secret anymore. I plan to send the King's Justice back to King's Landing. I know that Sansa doesn't like his presence here." He considered the child. "I expect that you don't either."

"He killed our father," she said angrily, taking a vicious swipe at him with her sword. _Good thing it's not real. _"I know that you fought with my father before he died. You killed his men. They were my friends." He could see that she was emotional about the men he had killed when she looked away from him, unable to meet his eyes.

"Don't look at your feet – you'll end up stabbed in the face." She met his eyes as he advanced toward her. "I did fight with your father. And his men were killed. I'm sorry about that." He took a deep breath as he avoided a swipe at his head. "I was angry. I'm not very good at keeping my temper in check."

"Mother says I'm not either."

He could see that she was tiring. Her swings were getting sloppier. "Perhaps that's enough for today."

"Will you let me practice with you again?"

Jaime sighed. "Your sister will have my head…but I think it's relatively harmless. Don't let her think that I'm corrupting your…ladylike manners." Arya snorted. "I know you think Sansa is silly to care about doing what's proper, but it comforts her. And she believes that being a lady is what's best for you."

She nodded. "You won't let anyone hurt my sister or her baby will you?"

Jaime lowered his sword at her words. He could see that the child loved Sansa very much, despite how different they were and how much those differences irritated one another. "I love your sister. And her baby is mine, too. I'd kill anyone who dared hurt Sansa or our child. I promise you."

She seemed to accept that. "She loves you, too," Arya said quietly.

Jaime smiled, knowing that it wasn't easy for her to admit that to him. "Why don't you give the bow and arrow a try? I've never been much of an archer, and I expect that won't change now that I'm lacking a hand. But I'd like to see what you can do."

He could see that she was considering – no doubt her mother had filled her with terrible thoughts about him. "All right," she finally said, picking up the bow and quivers. Jaime stood behind, watching her. Her aim was quite good. He made a note to have Lady Alys procure some breeches and a tunic for her to wear when she was practicing with him. _There's no need for the child to trip over her skirts._ He hoped Sansa wouldn't be too angry with him.

Jaime had never had a little sister and never spent much time with little girls, but he was amused by Arya Stark. Sansa had told him that Arya was closer to their brothers than she was to her; and that her sister preferred running around outside, riding horses and learning to fight to sitting inside sewing. _I suppose that's why she arrived dressed as a boy, with her two friends._

"If I allow you to have a real blade – larger than that Needle of yours – will you agree not to hurt anyone with it? Unless we're attacked of course," he said dryly.

He resisted smiling as her eyes lit up. "You'll really give me a sword?"

"Do we have a deal?" She nodded quickly. "Let's go down to the forge and see about your friend Gendry making a sword for you. Bring your practice sword. It seems to be a good weight for you to use."

When they entered the forge, Jaime could see that she was forcing a neutral expression on her face, but she was not doing a very good job of it. There were four smiths working – largely making weapons for the war. It seemed the chief armorer had Gendry working on a helmet – no doubt wanting to see what his new apprentice was capable of.

Her friend Gendry stood up straight when he saw Jaime enter the armory. "Lord Lannister…Lady Arya." Jaime smiled to himself at the annoyed set of her jaw when he addressed her properly.

"Gendry, I wonder if you could help me. I'd like to have a sword forged for _Lady Arya_ here. She's brought the practice sword Ser Benedict selected for her. Perhaps you could make her one of similar size and weight?"

"Of course, m'lord."

Jaime considered Robert Baratheon's bastard for a moment before speaking to the chief armorer – the man who had made every sword Jaime had ever swung until joining the Kingsguard. It seemed the staff at the Rock had remained entirely the same since Jaime was a child. He supposed the familiarity was a comfort. Though it was also a bit unnerving to think he had simply stepped into his father's shoes.

When he walked back toward the fires to collect Arya, he saw that she was chatting with Gendry. He supposed the boy must be fond of her. If he weren't, he would certainly consider her a pest as she hovered around him, sticking her nose into everything he was working on.

"Do you want to get burned in the flames?" Gendry asked her in exasperation, taking her arm and firmly moving her away, and Jaime held back his laughter. "I'm surprised to see you spending time with Lord Lannister."

She shrugged her shoulders. "My sister asked me to try to get along with him…he is a good warrior. Even my father used to say so."

"It's all right if you like him, you know," Gendry said as he stuck whatever he was working on back in the fire. "Take three steps back," he said to Arya in exasperation, noticing she had crept closer yet again. "I'd expect a northerner to have less fondness for metal hot enough to burn."

"I don't like him," she insisted. "He's a Lannister and…they killed my family."

"_He_ didn't kill any of them. And he's married to your sister now. He's your family."

She shrugged. "Can I come down here and visit you sometimes?"

"I suppose. If you're allowed to. Though I don't know why you would want to be down here in the soot and fire."

Jaime smiled to himself as Arya gazed at Gendry in clear admiration. He wondered how Sansa would react to her little sister's crush on the young blacksmith. "Little sister, I should return you to your mother and give Gendry the chance to work on your sword."

"Can I come back here sometimes to see my friend?"

"I don't see why not," Jaime said, stepping towards them. "Just don't let your sister find out you're prowling around down here." He saw Arya smile to herself at his indulgence of her.

….

As promised, Lady Alys had introduced Sansa to her household staff after the midwife examined her. Sansa had no idea that she would be responsible for so many people, though she should have known when she saw the size of Casterly Rock. It was a bit overwhelming. Her mother had taught her about running a household, but Sansa was a bit intimidated by the task ahead of her. The staff at Winterfell was nothing in comparison to the size of the staff at Casterly Rock.

"You'll do fine, my dear. I can see that you will make a fine Lady of Casterly Rock. Joanna…she was nervous as well, in the beginning, after she first married Lord Tywin. It is a tremendous responsibility to be Lady of the Rock. But once you get your bearings, you will do just as wonderfully as she did."

Sansa hoped she was right. At the moment, she felt as if her head was spinning. The midwife had told her that the baby should come in less than four moons. She'd arrived at that calculation after asking when Sansa had last bled and when Ser Jaime had first bedded her and how often. Sansa had been shy at first, blushing as she answered the woman's personal questions, but then she had realized this was her chance to end the mystery surrounding her pregnancy, and she had begun to pepper the midwife with questions.

"What was Jaime like when he was little?" she asked Lady Alys quietly, resting her hand on her belly.

Lady Alys smiled. "I can scarce think about Jaime without thinking of Cersei. They were so alike when they were little. Their mother couldn't even tell them apart at times; except for the obvious difference. But they would switch clothes to trick us. Of course, that all ended when Jaime began to grow into a man – tall and strong – and Cersei developed her womanly figure."

Sansa began to regret asking. She knew their relationship began while they were growing up here. She couldn't help thinking about a teenage Jaime and Cersei here together at the Rock. She knew that this was where they fell in love…unnatural and destructive as it was. And this was where they first began bedding one another.

"Lord Tywin was furious when Jaime joined the Kingsguard. Jaime was only fifteen years old and…I did wonder if he realized all that he was giving up. A woman to love. A wife. Children."

"What was Lady Joanna like? I've asked Jaime but…he doesn't remember much of her."

Lady Alys nodded sadly. "He was so young when she died. It devastated him. Cersei was always independent. Even as a small child, but Jaime…Jaime loved his mother very much. He would sit on her lap for hours in her sitting room. You wouldn't know it now, he's such a great warrior – a knight – but he enjoyed being loved and cuddled. It infuriated Lord Tywin that Joanna was coddling his heir but, he could never deny her anything. And she loved Jaime – loved holding him in her arms – so much. He was such a sweet, loving little boy."

"And then, when she died, everything changed. Jaime clung to Cersei even more than before. I expect he was seeking the affection that his mother had given him. Would you like some tea or anything?"

Sansa shook her head. "Thank you. I think…It's been a long day. I think I'll lie down for a while."

She began walking back to her suite of rooms, with several guards trailing behind her when she came upon a portrait that could only be Jaime and Cersei when they were children. She couldn't step away from it. They were so alike. Sansa never realized how much Cersei was tied to all of Jaime's childhood. _There was no other woman in the world for him for almost his whole life, but Cersei._

Sansa forced herself to walk away from the painting. It would not do for Jaime's men to see the distress that it caused her. They might learn the truth about the relationship between the twins. As Sansa continued walking to her bedchamber, she couldn't help being afraid. _Will I ever mean as much to Jaime as Cersei does? He's loved her for his entire life. And she's everywhere…in every corner of this castle._

Sansa thought about the night before, when Jaime had come to bed and been so upset. Because of the memories the Rock holds for him. She had thought it was because they'd been in the crypts, burying his father but…now she wondered if it was memories of Cersei that were troubling him.

Sansa ran her hand over her belly. _He loves me. And he wants this baby. I know he does. _She hoped that she and the baby would be able to heal Jaime. And that, in time, Jaime would come to love her as much as he'd ever loved Cersei. Sansa knew she couldn't just give up and let Cersei win. She thought about what Lady Alys said about Jaime as a child – that he was affectionate and loved to be held and cuddled before his mother died. She smiled, thinking about how surprised she had been that her brave knight of a husband allowed her to cuddled against him and hold him. _It's Cersei who brought out his viciousness. He's mine now_, she thought, as she entered her bedchamber.

…..

_Next chapter: Edmure finally speaks to Roslin _


	39. Chapter 39

_Here's one last chapter before Christmas. _

…

Chapter 39

Sansa and Roslin sat together, sewing and chatting in the main sitting room of the castle. They had each been examined by the midwife earlier in the day. Sansa was a bit further along in her pregnancy than Roslin was, though their babies would not be born all that far apart – no more than a few weeks.

"Are you settling in here at the Rock?" Sansa asked quietly, as she continued stitching a lion on a tunic she was making for Jaime. She was now the Lady of Casterly Rock. That made Roslin her guest, as well as Jaime's, so Sansa wanted to do what she could to see to her comfort.

"It's…it is lovely here. You and Ser Jaime have been very kind to me. You've both made me feel quite welcome." Roslin glanced over at the tunic Sansa was making for Jaime. "It's plain to see that he loves you very much and…looks forward to the babe coming. It must be…a comfort to know that he will be with you when your babe comes." Sansa could see that Roslin was a bit sad. "I'm afraid to have a child all alone," she whispered, meeting Sansa's eyes.

Sansa had prayed that her Uncle Edmure would reach out to his wife, though so far he had not. "You're not alone. I'll help you."

Roslin smiled faintly. "You'll have your own babe to care for. I'm certain I'll be all right," she murmured, not very convincingly, turning back to her sewing.

Sansa watched her, sadly, for a few moments before resuming her own stitching. She didn't know what more she could do to appeal to her uncle. Jaime had told her that he had also urged Edmure to reconcile with his wife, but so far he had not. Sansa and Roslin worked in relative silence for most of the afternoon until a voice echoed from the entranceway.

"May I interrupt the two of you for a few moments?"

Sansa could see that Roslin was shocked – and a bit scared – to see her lord husband, Edmure Tully, standing in the entryway. She looked at him briefly before nervously returning her eyes to the baby blanket she was working on.

"Of course. You're not interrupting at all," Sansa said. _Thank the gods he's not as stubborn as my mother._ "I…actually I need to speak to my handmaiden about something. If you'll excuse me." Sansa put down her sewing and rose to leave the room, not at all subtly, as Edmure continued to stand awkwardly in the doorway, his eyes on Roslin, who was nervously glancing up at her husband.

As she exited the sitting room, Sansa noticed both her own guards and Edmure's hovering outside the doorway. She shooed them away and noticed a couple of them smile at her efforts to give Roslin and Edmure privacy as they walked to the end of the hallway. She knew she was beginning to win the favor of her guards. Instead of simply following her silently, they had begun to speak to her, which made her feel more comfortable having them around. Once all of the guards stepped just around the corner, Sansa hovered outside the doorway of the sitting room, out of sight, but still within earshot.

"I hope…I hope you're well, my lady," Edmure said hesitantly.

"I'm well," Roslin said shyly. "I…It is good to see you, my lord." Sansa could hear in Roslin's voice that she was struggling not to cry.

"How is…the babe?"

"The babe is well. I…Lady Alys had a midwife from Lannisport come here for Sansa and myself this morning. She said the babe is healthy and…it should arrive in a little more than four moons time. I'm…I'm so sorry," she said, as her voice broke and she gave in to her tears.

Sansa valiantly resisted the urge to go back into the sitting room to comfort Roslin. She saw that her uncle had moved further into the room. Sansa crept closer, wishing to see if he was comforting his wife. She could see that he sat beside her on the sofa.

"I know you are," he said quietly. "Sansa told me how much you regret…what happened."

She nodded, still in tears. "I didn't…I didn't know that I would…like you," she whispered. "And then it was too late. Nothing would have stopped my father…"

Sansa nearly jumped out of her skin as strong arms wrapped around her waist. "I never took you for a spy," Jaime whispered against Sansa's ear. Sansa would have been embarrassed that he caught her listening, if she weren't more concerned about staying hidden.

She shushed him, running her hand over his as he rested his head on her shoulder. "I just wish to make sure she's all right."

"Edmure doesn't seem the type to strike a woman."

"But he could say-" she was interrupted by the sound of Edmure and Roslin moving toward the hallway. She heard faint words of Edmure asking Roslin to walk with him, though she didn't have time to enjoy the fact that Roslin was getting what she had wished for, since she and Jaime were about to be discovered. Sansa dragged Jaime into an alcove, trying to remain hidden.

Jaime looked down at her, a smirk on his face. "I never imagined I'd be hiding in the shadows of my own home."

"I'm sorry," she whispered, a sheepish expression on her face. He shook his head in amusement before lowering his head to kiss her. She smiled against his lips, smoothing her hand over his hair as they continued their hushed conversation.

"How was your day, sweet girl?"

Sansa craned her head around. "Where are Roslin and –"

"Never mind them," Jaime whispered, kissing her again. "Is the babe healthy?"

She smiled and nodded. "The midwife said that the baby will come in less than four moons time."

"That soon?"

"She thinks we conceived in the first two weeks we were married."

He nuzzled against her. "We did spend a lot of time in the bedchamber those first weeks." He kissed her neck. "When you'd just discovered the pleasure my body could bring you," he teased.

"The midwife said…she said that…" Sansa looked down, unable to look him in the eye. "She said that I would…desire you more now that I'm with child." She felt her face burn with embarrassment as he chuckled.

"I have noticed you've been a bit more wanton as of late," he murmured in her ear, to her utter shame. "It's been most enjoyable." She felt his mouth on her neck again. "I've seen and touched every inch of you…and you me…yet still you blush like a maiden," he murmured, the amusement apparent in his voice.

She scowled at his mocking words, even as he continued kissing her. "I suppose we don't need to hide anymore…they've wandered off."

"Are you sure you don't wish to indulge in your heightened desire for my body? We're reasonably well-hidden here. Your guards will wait while you ravage me." She made to hit him and Jaime grabbed her arm, laughing, as he led her from the alcove.

"How was your sparring with Ser Addam?" she asked, leaning against him as they walked down the hallway.

"It went rather well. Much better that what I had feared…I believe I'll send Ser Ilyn back to King's Landing."

"Oh, please, Jaime, will you?" She hated having him nearby. He terrified her.

"Your sister seemed to appreciate my intention to have him leave the Rock as well."

"She saw father die, also." Sansa looked down, feeling tears form in her eyes and Jaime wrapped his arm around her, holding her to him and kissing the top of her head. As they continued walking through the castle, Sansa's guards fell into step some distance behind them. "Did you enjoy your morning with my sister?"

Jaime smiled. "Are you very angry that I'm frustrating your efforts to turn her into a lady?"

"No. I know it's pointless. And I am glad that the two of you are getting along." She looked at Jaime warily. "You did get along all right, didn't you?"

He smirked. "As well as I can get along with someone who hates me."

"I don't believe she hates you." _You're not on her list_, she thought to herself. Sansa still shuddered to think that her sister actually had a list of people she wanted dead. Though, Sansa supposed she could conjure up such a list, if she put her mind to it.

"Tell me, Sansa, how am I to care for my beautiful wife, as our child grows inside you?" He leaned over and whispered in her ear. "Other than satisfying your baser desires."

She gave him a push for his impertinence, though she was smiling, and allowed him to wrap his arm around her once again and pull her close as they continued on to their bedchamber.

...

As the days passed, Sansa came to love living at Casterly Rock more and more. They had been there for two weeks, and Sansa stood, gazing out the windows of her and Jaime's bedchamber, watching as light flurries of snow began to fall. She was glad that she and Jaime were no longer traveling, now that winter truly was coming. She ran her hand over her belly, thinking about the winter baby that would be coming soon. The moon was full, lighting the sky and each snowflake.

"Remind you of home?" Jaime asked, walking behind her and resting his chin on top of her head.

She nodded, leaning back against his bare chest. His hair was still damp from bathing as he nuzzled against her. She felt the baby kicking her hard and grabbed Jaime's hand, holding it against her belly.

"Can you feel that?" she whispered, excitedly. She felt him breathe heavily against her neck as he pressed his hand against her belly, but he didn't say anything. "That's our baby. Have you ever felt anything so…" Sansa trailed off, realizing she was being silly. This was all new and exciting and life-changing for her but, Jaime already had three children. _This can't be as special to him as it is for me._ "I'm sorry…I forgot for a moment that…you've felt your child in the womb before. It must not be…as thrilling as it is for me," she said quietly, looking down at her belly, embarrassed.

Jaime turned her to face him and tilted her chin up, forcing her to look at him and she was surprised to see the emotion in his eyes. "As far as I'm concerned, this is my first child. This is the first child I will hold in my arms. The first child I can call my own." He leaned his forehead against hers. "And the first child I have felt in the womb."

Sansa was surprised. "What do you mean?"

"Cersei…jealously guarded every aspect of her children. Every kick, every change, every first…they were all for her alone. They were never mine." He looked down at her swollen belly, running his hand over it. "This babe is mine. Yours and mine. The whole world will know that."

He met her eyes as the child started kicking in earnest and she felt tears forming in her eyes. She could see that Jaime was also moved to feel their child moving inside her. She leaned up and kissed him, as his hand remained on her belly.

Jaime removed his hand once the babe stopped moving. "It's really in there, isn't it?"

She nodded. "Turn around," he whispered.

"What are you doing?" she asked, as she turned to face the window.

"Taking off your clothes. I want to see you…and feel the babe through your skin." She helped Jaime remove her clothes. His eyes ran over her body when she turned to face him, standing before him completely bare. Sansa was starting to feel self-conscious about her expanding middle, but the way Jaime looked at her forced all of those concerns from her mind. She knew that Jaime thought her beautiful.

He took her hand and led her to the bed, pulling back the furs and blankets for her as she climbed into the bed. Jaime removed the towel from around his waist and climbed in with her. She was usually the one cuddled up against him, but he positioned himself behind her, fitting his body to hers. Jaime wrapped his arm around her so his hand could rest on her belly.

She felt his mouth against her neck. "I love you, Sansa. Only you."

Sansa turned her head to kiss him, reaching with her hand to pull him close to her as she kissed him. "I love you, too." She twisted her upper body a bit to look at him as he ran his hand over her belly. She could see how much he loved her and looked forward to the arrival of their child. "I love you so much, Jaime. You and our baby."

Jaime smiled, raising his eyes to her as he continued to gently run his hand over her belly. "I don't deserve you, sweet girl. But I have no intention of letting you go." He kissed her again. "My life would be worthless if I didn't have you here in my arms." He pressed his chest against her back, cuddling against her as he rested his hand protectively over her belly.

"Would you rather have a boy or a girl?" she asked curiously, turning over to lie facing him.

"Eventually, I'd like us to have at least one of each," his fingers ran over her hip absently as he spoke. "I suppose I should wish for a boy – an heir – but…the thought of a little girl to spoil…is rather appealing." Sansa smiled and snuggled against him, her belly pressing against his. "So, I suppose I'd be happy with either."

"Me, too. Who do you think it will look like?" Sansa had overheard two kitchen maids talking about how beautiful this baby would be with Jaime and Sansa as its parents. She hoped the child had Jaime's looks as well as her own. Now that her father was dead…she regretted that she looked nothing like him. It would be comforting to look in the mirror and see a piece of her father there.

"I certainly hope our little one favors you…you are such a beauty," he murmured.

Sansa rested her head against his chest, smiling as he stroked her hair, the way he always did when they were drifting off to sleep. She didn't think she would be able to fall asleep ever again without Jaime's touch lulling her to dreamland. "_You_ are rather handsome," she said with a smile, wrapping her arm around his shoulders. "I'd like it if our baby looked like you." Sansa thought about the portrait of Jaime and Cersei that she had seen hanging in the castle. She'd gone back to it a few times, studying it. "I wonder if our baby will look anything like you and Cersei, in that portrait hanging in the hall."

She felt Jaime's hand falter for a moment, before he resumed petting her hair. "I didn't realize it was still there…I'll have it removed tomorrow – "

"No. That's not why I mention it. I know that…Cersei was everything to you, after your mother died. I don't expect that to just end. I don't expect your memories of her to disappear." She kissed his chest. "It's part of who you are and…I do like who you are."

"Sansa…you do know that I love you? That _you_ are everything to me now?"

She nodded against his chest, knowing his words were sincere. "What should we name it?" she mumbled sleepily.

He chuckled. "I forgot to mention…your sister brought up the subject to me yesterday, when we were sparring. She suggested 'Nymeria' if it was a girl."

"We are _not_ naming our child after her wolf," she said indignantly as he laughed and kissed the top of her head.

Sansa rested her head on his chest again and looked across the room to the large windows and watched the snow fall over the Sunset Sea as she cuddled in Jaime's arms beneath the furs, feeling warm and safe, as she thought about the babe growing in her belly. "The snow is so beautiful," she murmured. It looked like thousands of fireflies swirling outside the window, as the moon lit each snowflake.

"Almost as beautiful as my winter girl, here in my arms." She could hear the smile in his voice as he continued stroking her hair. Sansa felt her eyelids grow heavy as she watched the snow, and finally gave in, closing her eyes and allowed sleep to claim her.

…..

_Let me know how you enjoyed the chapter. I hope you all have a wonderful holiday!_

_Next Chapter: Arya takes revenge against one of the names on her list…_


	40. Chapter 40

_I hope everyone enjoyed their holidays. Thank you all for reading and reviewing - it helps motivate me to update regularly :)_

_I know there wasn't a lengthy conversation between Roslin and Edmure in the last chapter, but that's because the story is not from either of their points of view, and Sansa can only lurk in the doorway for so long, but there's more of what Edmure is thinking in this chapter._

_Also, I'm a bit hesitant about how dark Arya's actions are in this chapter, but I do think it is consistent with the direction her character has taken in the novels (and on the show)._

…

Chapter 40

Sansa and Arya were sitting across from each other, breaking their fast in relative quiet. Jaime was not yet dining with them this morning, as his steward had called him away on urgent business the moment he and Sansa had walked downstairs. For the past few weeks, Arya had taken to breaking her fast with Jaime and Sansa before training with Jaime for several hours each morning. Sansa couldn't help wondering what her mother thought about Arya spending so much time with Jaime. She was already furious about his marriage to Sansa.

She looked up and smiled as she heard her husband enter the dining area. Her smile faded when she saw the expression on his face. "What's the matter, Jaime?"

"Ser Ilyn Payne was found dead this morning when his escort back to King's Landing went to wake him. Stabbed through the heart with a rather narrow blade."

Sansa's eyes flew to Arya, who continued eating as if Jaime had not spoken a word. _Oh gods, my sister little sister is a killer. Jaime's going to have to lock her in the dungeons with the Northern lords. _"What did you do?" Sansa hissed at her.

"Nothing," she said, quite unconvincingly.

"Don't lie to me. You said that you had a list. You said you wished Jaime would kill Ser Ilyn."

"You wished for that, too," Arya said fiercely. "He killed father…right in front of you. Yoren turned my head away so I wouldn't see, but I heard you screaming."

Sansa felt tears form in her eyes as Jaime sat down at the head of the table, between the two sisters. He rested his hand on top of Sansa's before turning to Arya. "What's this list you have?"

"Yoren, the man who was taking me to the wall…he said that it's important to remember who your enemies are. So, I have a list of names I say every night before I go to bed. So I won't forget."

"A list of people to kill?" Arya was silent and wouldn't meet Jaime's gaze. "Who's on the list?"

Sansa watched her little sister continue to stare down at her plate defiantly. "Answer him, Arya."

"The Hound, Ser Ilyn, King Joffrey, Queen Cersei, the Mountain, Polliver, Raff the Sweetling." Sansa knew her eyes must be wide as saucers. She looked away from her sister and turned to Jaime. She could see that Jaime had no doubt that Arya had killed the King's Justice. _Cersei will kill her for this. It's treason._

"Arya," he began.

"I was protecting my family."

"No. You were getting revenge for your family. That's not the same. I suppose I'm fortunate that you've warmed to me," Jaime said dryly as Arya smirked to herself. "I know you think you were doing what you thought would help your family. But…when you act on impulse, even with the best of intentions, you sometimes do things that you later come to regret."

Arya merely stared down at her plate, but Sansa could see that she was listening to Jaime's words. "Arya, I've done things that I thought were right – in the heat of the moment – but I later came to realize that they weren't. These things…it is a tremendous burden to carry. No matter the reason why you did this – you've taken a life." He looked at Arya closely. "You cannot do this again. You _will_ _not_ do this again."

Arya looked down, her chin wavering. "I know," she whispered.

Sansa was surprised to see the compassion and concern in Jaime's eyes as he addressed her bratty little sister. "Are you all right?"

She nodded slowly, though Sansa could see she was near tears. "Can we go practice?"

He sighed. "Go change your clothes and come back." He watched as she ran off.

"You're still going to let her…fight? You should take that sword away from her. She's…a murderer," she finished with a whisper.

He sighed, leaning back in his chair. "And your husband is a Kingslayer." Sansa glared at him. "She won't do it again."

"How do you know?"

"She didn't like it. She doesn't like to kill. Not like I did." Sansa looked at him warily. "She's scared and … traumatized by it. She won't seek revenge again. I'll have to send word to King's Landing that the King's Justice has died."

"Will you tell Cersei that Arya…" Sansa couldn't finish her question.

Jaime shook his head. "No. I haven't even sent word that we've located your sister. If Cersei knew, and heard what she'd done…she'd want her brutally punished. She wanted me to cut off her hand after that incident with Joffrey and the wolf." Sansa could well believe it after she'd insisted on having Lady killed when Nymeria couldn't be found.

"Thank you, Jaime. For protecting her. Despite how…monstrous she's….I never thought she had it in her to...kill someone. She's only a little girl." He leaned over and kissed her before reaching for a bite to eat. "Jaime? What did you mean, when you said you liked to kill?"

"Killing, fighting…it made me feel alive. There were times when nothing could make me feel better than spilling blood. You can see it, on any battlefield. There are those men who are craven, who try to stay out of the battle. Then, there are those who were merely doing what was necessary – fighting for their liege lord. Then…there are those who enjoying spilling blood. Who seek it out – who run to the vanguard. That was me. It made me feel alive – to kill. Your sister, I could see, was disturbed by what she did. Revenge didn't bring her the pleasure she thought it would. Not as it would have brought me." He looked at her carefully. "I'm afraid you've married yourself a killer, sweet girl."

"Most men are killers," she said softly.

"What was that?"

"The Hound…he told me that most men are killers. That my father was a killer. The knights I admired as a child were killers. He said that the world was built by killers. I suppose he was right."

"When did he tell you that?"

"During the Battle of Blackwater. Before he fled. He was waiting for me in my bedchamber and…he said he would take me with him. That he would take me home. To the North."

"Why was he in your bedchamber?"

She smiled faintly at Jaime. "There's no need to be jealous."

"I'm not. Not yet," he said with a smirk.

Sansa looked down at the table. "He always…watched me when I was in the capitol. I was afraid to leave with him, when he offered. I…I thought that he might…" her voice trailed off.

"You thought he would rape you?" Sansa looked up at Jaime and saw that she had his full attention. "Did he touch you?"

She nodded. "It wasn't…how you mean but…it wasn't proper. I saw the want…the need in his eyes. I know he was frightened of the flames and...looking for something that would bring him comfort." She shrugged. "He was the only one of Joffrey's guards who never hit me. Who never beat me for Joffrey."

"But he didn't stop them either."

She shook her head. "No, he didn't. He watched and I could see the lust in his eyes. As he looked at my body." She didn't like to think about her time in the capitol. She felt Jaime take her hand and kiss it.

"That's in the past, Sansa. None of them can hurt you now." She knew that he was trying to soothe her; to make her forget her many traumas in the Red Keep.

She smiled faintly. "The past is all around us sometimes…both of us," she said in a faint voice. She looked at him and could see the question in his eyes. "When you were talking to Arya…about things you've done…you were speaking about things you've done because of…the queen?"

She could have sworn he looked fearful for a moment. "Yes," he whispered. He spoke to her in a low voice. "The things I did to conceal our relationship…those who were hurt to protect her…I've always regretted those things. I wasn't ashamed of loving her but, I was always ashamed of the things I did to conceal it." Jaime looked at her, and she could see that he expected her to ask what he'd done. But she had no intention of asking. She didn't wish to know. When it became clear to Jaime that she wasn't going to ask, he continued on. "I blindly did anything necessary. Anything Cersei wanted or needed." He sighed. "That's over now."

Sansa could see that he was troubled by something - something he had done at Cersei's request. She knew that he wanted to tell her about the things he'd done for Cersei - to protect their secret - but she sincerely did not wish to hear. Sansa rubbed her hand over her belly as she sipped her tea. _Our future is all that matters. Not the past._

…..

Sansa spent the morning giving the staff further instructions about gathering and preparing supplies for the long winter ahead. As she made her way to her sitting room, she saw her uncle standing in the library, gazing out the window. She motioned for her guards to wait for her, as she went inside to speak to him. He had a troubled expression on his face, from what Sansa could see.

Roslin had told Sansa that she and Edmure had not spoken much of the Red Wedding. He had made a point of visiting with Roslin every day, only ever asking after her health and the health of the babe. Sometimes they would talk about what to name the child. Roslin didn't know if Edmure wanted to forgive her and she was too uncertain to ask him herself. Sansa had seen them together a few times, and while she could see that Edmure liked her very much, she could also see that he was hesitant about their relationship – that he was deliberately holding back from her.

"Uncle?" she said quietly.

He turned and regarded her with a soft smile, that so reminded her of her brother she wanted to weep. "You have the same look your mother does when something's on her mind." Sansa smiled faintly. "I look at you, and see the big sister I always confided in…until she went North to be Lady of Winterfell."

"Are you all right, Uncle? You seem…you seem troubled."

He nodded, sinking into one of the large leather chairs in front of the fireplace. "I'm well, Sansa. And I suppose I'm also troubled."

"I see that you care for Lady Roslin," she began gently. "But I know you still keep your distance from her…that you shield your heart from her." He looked at her in surprise, as she sat in the chair opposite him. "That is…that's what I did with Jaime for a time…I loved him but I was afraid to believe that he could love me back. So, I kept him at a distance."

"You certainly don't do that now."

She smiled and shook her head. "I know he loves me. And I've decided that I can't allow his past to spoil what's between us."

"His past? Do you mean slaying the mad king or the bastards he fathered on his sister?"

Sansa looked down at her hands before addressing him again. She would never speak of Jaime's relationship with the queen, knowing that it could very well result in his execution. "I know that Jaime did many things…before he and I were married that are considered dishonorable. But that does not mean that _he_ is dishonorable. If you truly love someone…you can forgive them anything. I truly believe that."

"I don't know if I can forget…the circumstances of our marriage. I don't know if I can forget what was happening as our child was conceived," he whispered. "To think that while your brother was being brutally murdered I was…" he trailed off, unable to finish his thought.

"Does my mother…does she urge you to treat Roslin as she wishes I would treat Jaime? As she treats me?"

He sighed. "I've not mentioned Roslin to your lady mother. I suppose I am a coward."

"You do know that if Roslin could change what happened…"

"I do," he said. "How have you been able to forgive him? To forget all that he's done?"

"I know that Jaime loves me. And I know that he would never do anything to harm me. I couldn't bear to be without him." She leaned forward and hesitantly touched his hand. "Do you wish to have Roslin? To be a family with her and your child?" He nodded. She could barely see the movement, but he nodded. "Then…you have to leave the past where it belongs."

She patted his hand and stood to leave him, but he held onto her hand and rose, embracing her in his arms. "Thank you, Sansa." She closed her eyes, remembering the last time she saw her brother Robb, when he hugged her goodbye as she left Winterfell for the last time.

….

Arya slashed toward Jaime, effectively using her speed and the footwork that Jaime had taught her in the past weeks. When they had started training together, she'd tried to use force, but eventually she had listened to him when he told her that she'd never win against a grown man based on strength. He knew that Sansa was disturbed by the revenge her sister had taken against Ser Ilyn – and he was as well – but Jaime could see that the child would not commit another act of violence.

"Do you remember the first person you killed?" Arya asked.

"I do. I was just fifteen and still a squire. It was one of the Brotherhood. I cut his head off. You never forget the first." He lowered his sword and stood beside Arya, reaching for her forearm and showing her how she should hold her sword against an opponent much taller than she. "And I suppose now you won't either."

"Ser Ilyn wasn't the first person I've killed."

Jaime looked at her in surprise. "Who was?"

She looked down, swinging her practice sword at the ground. "After Syrio made me leave the Tower of the Hand…I escaped to where our carriages were being loaded to return to Winterfell. My trunk had fallen…all of my father's men were dead. I opened my trunk and found Needle. I had it hidden inside, wrapped in my clothes. A stable boy came up behind me and…I told him to leave me alone but he was going to take me to the queen." The child had stopped swinging her sword, and merely held it in a death grip before looking up at Jaime and he could see that her eyes were wet with tears. "I didn't mean to stab him."

Jaime hesitantly squeezed her shoulder in comfort, fully expecting her to shake off his touch, but she didn't. "You did what you had to do to survive. That was self-defense. But…Arya…vengeance is very different."

"But Ser Ilyn…" she looked up at him fearfully, "He killed my father. He deserved to die. I thought…I thought it was the right thing to do. Like when my father would execute deserters from the Night's Watch. I thought it would make me feel better. That it would stop hurting that father was dead."

"But it hasn't?"

She shook her head. "I promise…I won't again. I won't…I won't say the names anymore."

He could see that she was sincere and decided to distract her from her disturbance. "Are you ready to try out those new moves I've taught you?"

She nodded, raising her sword once again. They sparred for some time, and it seemed she was over her regrets for the two she had killed. He supposed children were easily distracted, though she'd likely have nightmares about it.

He noticed Gendry stood against one wall watching them. He was holding a small sword in his hand, which Jaime knew must be the sword he'd made for Arya, at Jaime's request. He continued sparring with her for a few moments, before they changed positions and she saw Gendry watching. Jaime was able to take advantage of her distraction and knock the practice sword from her hands.

"Yield," she said sullenly, pushing his sword from her throat. "Is that my sword?" she asked in excitement, hurrying toward Gendry, and wrenching it from his hand before he could answer her. Jaime watched as she began swinging it through the air, testing the weight.

"Remember it's real," Jaime said, stepping out of her path.

"I think I managed to match the weight of the practice sword she's been using, m'lord," Gendry said quietly. _He is awfully reserved. His manner is nothing like Robert._

"She appears to like it. Easy there, little sister," he called out as she began surging towards a practice dummy.

She turned and scowled at him. "I told you not to call me that."

"I'm merely calling you what you are," he said with a smirk, as he walked towards her. He pulled a practice dummy out into the open. "Give the sword a try on that. Use the new tactics you learned. Try not to be distracted by your friend," he whispered.

He watched her test out her sword and it appeared the weight of it was good for her. "I believe this will work, Gendry. May I see it?" he asked, holding his hand out to Arya. She gave him the sword and went to speak to her friend. Jaime turned the sword over in his hand. "You've done excellent work here," Jaime said.

"Thank you, m'lord. I should return to the forge, if there's nothing else. The master armorer has much for us to do."

"Bye, Gendry," Arya said, watching as her friend walked away.

Jaime chuckled at her obvious disappointment that young Gendry wasn't staying on the practice grounds longer. "He's a bit old for you...at least, until you yourself get a bit older."

She turned and glared at him. "You're a _lot_ older than Sansa. She's only sixteen and you're almost as old as our father was."

He supposed he couldn't argue with her about that. He knew Sansa didn't see him as a father, per se, but she did seem to appreciate the protection and comfort of an older man. "Yes, little sister, I suppose I am robbing the cradle, as they say, but you're _nine_ years old." She looked down at the sword in her hand. "Gendry seems fond of you, though. And I know your sister is glad that you found someone to take care of you and be your friend. She was all alone and scared and…she didn't want that for you."

She nodded. "Sansa's not alone anymore. She has you."

"And she has her little sister back." Arya smiled at his words. "Try not to do anything else to horrify her, all right? At least not until after the baby comes." She nodded and jumped up to test out her new sword against a dummy. Jaime sat and watched her, wondering what his child with Sansa would be like – if the child would be as stubborn and headstrong as Arya Stark.

….

_Let me know your thoughts. While today, we would be horrified at a child Arya's age killing someone, in the Westeros universe, during a time of war, it doesn't seem to be all that unusual…I think ;)_

_Next Chapter: Jaime and Catelyn discuss his past in King's Landing_


	41. Chapter 41

_Happy New Year Everyone! This chapter is a lot less fluffy than the others, since it deals with Jaime's past in King's Landing – the atrocities he witnessed as he stood beside the Mad King. Will knowing about that change Catelyn (& Sansa's) thoughts about him?_

….

Chapter 41

Jaime was walking back from the practice grounds with Arya, when he saw Lady Catelyn walking towards him, her guards trailing after her. He could see a purpose to her walk and wondered what it was that had set her off now. She had largely avoided both he and Sansa during the time they had been at Casterly Rock, keeping to the section of the castle she shared with Edmure and Arya.

"You should run along," he whispered to Arya. "Go on," he said, seeing her hesitation. She reluctantly walked down the corridor leading to her bedchamber. "Lady Stark…how can I be of service?"

"Isn't it enough that you've taken Sansa as your wife? Now you're trying to lure Arya over to your side as well?"

"There don't have to be sides. I don't feel that it's necessary to make your daughters choose. Though you're certainly doing an excellent job of pushing Sansa away." He glanced at her guards. "You can leave us." They nodded to him and walked down the hallway, giving them privacy. "Lady Stark, you speak as if I've harmed Sansa in some way. I've only ever treated her kindly. Arya, as well, for that matter."

"You've say you've treated Sansa kindly, and perhaps you believe you have. That doesn't take away all the harm you've done in the past. All those you've wronged. Believe me, your misdeeds have already earned you a place of torment in the deepest of the seven hells, if the gods are just."

"What gods are those, my lady? The trees your husband prayed to? How well did they serve him when my sister took his head off? How well did they serve Sansa?" Jaime shook his head, thinking about Sansa, praying every day for nearly a year to be saved from Joffrey, only to stripped and beaten again and again. Each time he saw the scars covering his sweet little wife's back, he knew there was no justice in the world. No gods protecting the innocent. "If there are gods, Lady Stark, why is the world so full of pain and injustice?"

"Because of men like you."

"There are no men like me. There's only me." He often wondered what another man would have done in his position when Aerys was about to set his plan into motion all those years ago. He'd only been seventeen – not much older than Sansa – and he had done what was necessary for the good of the realm. He sometimes wondered what Ned Stark would have done in his place. Would he have simply allowed King's Landing to burn? "You know, I was the youngest man to wear the white cloak–"

"And the youngest to betray all it stood for, Kingslayer."

"Kingslayer," he pronounced carefully. "And such a king he was! Here's to Aerys Targaryen, the Second in his Name, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and _Protector_ of the Realm. And to the sword that opened his throat. A _golden_ sword, don't you know? Until his blood ran red down the blade. Those are the Lannister colors, red and gold."

"Only a man like you would be proud of such an act of dishonor."

"I told you, there are no men like me. Answer me this, Lady Stark – did your Ned ever tell you the manner of his father's death? Or his brother's?" _She's so outraged for my crimes against Aerys, but does she truly know what he was and what he did? If she did, she'd be glad I cut his throat._

"They strangled Brandon while his father watched and then killed Lord Rickard as well," she said quietly.

"Killed yes, but how?"

He could see she was uncomfortable with this conversation. "The cord or the axe, I suppose."

"No doubt Ned wished to spare you. His sweet young bride, though perhaps not quite a maiden." She glared at him. "Very noble of him to marry his dead brother's betrothed…Brandon was different from his brother, wasn't he? He had blood in his veins instead of ice water. More like me."

"Brandon was nothing like you."

"If you say so. I expect you knew him better than I. You and he were to wed." They didn't speak of it, but Jaime and Lady Stark were well-acquainted. He'd spent quite a bit of time at Riverrun as a boy, when Hoster Tully fancied him as a match for his daughter, Lysa. For his part, Jaime had found Lady Catelyn to be much more worth his time than her histrionic sister. If he had not been so in love with Cersei – and the sword – perhaps things would have been different. _And now, I'm wed to her daughter._

"Brandon was on his way to Riverrun when…when he heard about Lyanna, and went to King's Landing instead. It was a rash thing to do."

"I was there when he arrived. Brandon Stark rode into the Red Keep with a few companions, shouting for Prince Rhaeger to come out and die. But Rhaeger wasn't there. Aerys sent his guards to arrest them all for plotting his son's murder. The others were lords' sons too, it seems to me."

She nodded. "Aerys accused them of treason and summoned their fathers to court to answer the charge, with the sons as hostages. When they came, he had them murdered without trial. Fathers and sons both."

"There were trials," Jaime corrected. "Of a sort. Lord Rickard demanded trial by combat, and the king granted the request. Stark armored himself as for battle, thinking to duel one of the Kingsguard. Me, perhaps. Instead, they took him to the throne room and suspended him from the rafters while two of Aerys's pyromancers kindled a blaze beneath him. The king told him that fire was the champion of House Targaryen. So all Lord Rickard needed to do to prove himself innocent of treason was…well, not burn, I suppose."

He could see that he had Lady Catelyn's full attention. He could see that no matter how many years had passed, no matter how many children she'd born Ned Stark, a part of her still loved his brother Brandon.

"When the fire was blazing, Brandon was brought in. His hands were chained behind his back, and around his neck was a wet leathern cord attached to a device the king had commissioned from I know not where. His legs were left free, though, and his longsword was set down just beyond his reach."

"The pyromancers roasted Lord Rickard slowly, banking and fanning the fire carefully to get a nice even heat. His cloak caught first, and then his surecoat, and soon he wore nothing but metal and ashes. Next he would start to cook, Aerys promised…unless his son could free him. Brandon tried, but the more he struggled, the tighter the cord constricted around his throat. In the end he strangled himself." He saw her choke back a sob as he described the death of her betrothed. Her first love. _I've begun the story. I may as well finish it._

"As for Lord Rickard, the steel of his breastplate turned cherry-red before the end, and his gold melted off his spurs and dripped down into the fire. Sometimes I can still hear the screams in my nightmares. All the while, I stood at the foot of the Iron Throne in my white armor and white cloak, filling my head with thoughts of…my childhood." In truth, he had filled his head with thoughts of Cersei, but Lady Catelyn didn't need to hear that. "Afterward, Gerold Hightower himself took me aside and said to me, 'You swore a vow to guard the king, not to judge him.' That was the White Bull, loyal to the end and a better man than me, all agree."

Jaime could see that Lady Catelyn was still affected by what he'd told her. "Aerys was mad, the whole realm knew it, but if you would have me believe you slew him to avenge Brandon Stark…"

"I made no such claim. The Starks were nothing to me." Jaime laughed bitterly. "I will say, I find it fascinating that I am reviled by so many for what I believe to be my finest act. At Robert's coronation, I was made to kneel at the royal feet beside Grand Maester Pycelle and Varys the eunuch, so that he might _forgive_ our crimes before he took us into his service. The crimes that made him king." He fixed his gaze on Lady Stark. "As for your Ned, he should have kissed the hand that slew Aerys, but he preferred to scorn the arse he found sitting in Robert's throne. I think Ned Stark loved Robert better than he ever loved his brother or his father…or even you, my lady. He was never unfaithful to Robert, was he?"

He saw the rage in her eyes. "I will separate Sansa from you if it is the last thing I do. She is an innocent and desperate to believe there is good in the world. She believes you are a hero – that you saved her – but the truth is you are a monster. She's just an innocent young girl – a maiden – who had been separated from her own family, and terrorized by your lover and your bastard son. Perhaps she has convinced herself she loves you – if only to make it bearable when you touch her and defile her night after night, but the day will come when she sees who you really are. And then you'll lose my daughter, forever."

"That's quite enough, my lady."

"No, it isn't. You don't deserve Sansa. You don't deserve someone as kind and innocent and good as her. You must know if Stannis takes King's Landing, he'll come for you and your wife may be executed along with you. Or do you not care what happens to her? If you truly care for her, you'll let her go before you destroy her along with yourself," she spit out, turning on her heel and walking down the hall, away from him. _She's not wrong. I don't deserve a sweet girl like Sansa. But I'm far too selfish to let her go._

…

Sansa looked through the many scented oils and soaps that Jaime had given her, before selecting some to add to her bathwater. She'd just had the bath drawn, and finished lighting candles when she heard Jaime enter his bedchamber. "Jaime," she called out. She heard his footsteps and smiled when she saw him standing in the doorway. Sansa walked toward him, tilting her face up to kiss him, tangling her fingers in the hair at the nape of her neck. "Will you join me?" she asked softly. "It is rather romantic," she said with a shy smile, as she began working the buttons on his surecoat.

She knew he wouldn't deny her. He never denied her anything. Jaime helped her remove his clothes before reaching for the tie on her robe, sliding it from her shoulders. She wrapped her arms around him, kissing his chest. "I love you."

He kissed the top of her head before he climbed into the sunken bath first, then took her arms and helplped her to join him. The marble bath was enormous and could easily seat five people. Sansa settled beside her husband in the enormous tub, sighing in pleasure at the feel of the hot water that engulfed her up to her neck.

Sansa reached for a washcloth and, after soaking it in the water and adding some soap, she began gently scrubbing her husband's chest and shoulders. She smiled as he moaned in pleasure at the feel of the hot water and the washcloth scrubbing his skin. She knew he was usually sore after his time on the practice grounds. He would usually spend some time working with Arya – and also battle one or two of his men, which she knew her sister delighted in watching. "I believe I should be bathing you, Sansa. Given your condition."

She brushed his hair off his forehead, wetting it in the process, as she studied his face. _He is so very handsome. I can't believe I even looked at Joffrey all those months ago in Winterfell, when I could have looked at Jaime._ She kissed his forehead before moving the washcloth to his shoulders. "I wish to take care of you tonight," she murmured.

Sansa squealed as he slid his hand under her thighs and lifted her onto his lap. "Why am I receiving such treatment tonight?"

She smiled to herself. "I just…you're so wonderful to me and I want to be sure you know that. I know my mother was very unkind to you today."

"Who told you that?"

"Arya. She…was listening from her chamber. I almost think she was worried that mother had hurt your feelings." He chuckled. "She likes you very much, even if she would never admit it aloud. I hope you know that my mother's wrong about you, Jaime. You're not a monster. She may think that I don't really love you, but she's wrong." She rested her head on his shoulder. "I know that this is real."

Arya had repeated their mother's conversation with Jaime, and Sansa had worried when Jaime took so long to return to their chambers, instead wandering the halls of the Rock and spending time with his soldiers.

"You know your father would disapprove as well, don't you, Sansa? Of you and me…together."

"I'm not so foolish that I believe he'd be happy, but he would understand that you are my husband. And you are the father of my child. My father understood duty and honor. To a fault. And he would know that my place is with you. He wouldn't…he wouldn't insist on separating us." At least, that was what she wanted to believe. What she needed to believe.

"Your father…he could never get past the fact that I'm the oathbreaker who murdered poor sad Aerys Targaryen. No one could. It always comes back to Aerys." Jaime chuckled bitterly, turning to look at Sansa. "You saw my brother set the Blackwater Rush afire?" She nodded. "Wildfire will burn on water. Aerys would have bathed in it if he dared. The Targaryens were all mad for fire."

Sansa settled between his legs, her back against his chest as he spoke. He wrapped his good arm across her chest, holding her tightly and resting his head against hers, as steam filled the room from the hot bathwater.

"After losing the Battle of the Bells, Aerys finally realized that Robert was no mere outlaw lord to be crushed at whim, but the greatest threat House Targaryen had faced since Daemon Blackfyre. Prince Rhaeger returned from the south and persuaded his father to swallow his pride and summon my father, his former Hand. But no raven returned from Casterly Rock and that made the king even more paranoid. He saw traitors everywhere. So His Grace commanded his alchemists to place caches of wildfire all over King's Landing. Beneath Baelor's Sept and the hovels of Flea Bottom, under stables and storehouses, at all seven gates, even in the cellars of the Red Keep itself."

Sansa shivered at the thought. The Battle of Blackwater was still fresh in her mind, and she remembered the Bay being set aflame and how terrifying it had been. She could only imagine how awful it would be if the fire were not contained and had been able to consume all of King's Landing.

"Everything was done in the utmost secrecy by a trio of master pyromancers – Rossart, Belis and Garigus. Aerys's Hand – my father's replacement - was not utterly stupid, and with the pyromancers coming and going night and day, he became suspicious. I'd thought the man craven, but the day he confronted Aerys he found some courage somewhere. He did all he could to dissuade him. He reasoned, he jested, he threatened, and finally he begged. When that failed, he took off his chain of office and flung it down on the floor. Aerys burnt him alive for that, and hung his chain about the neck of Rossart, his favorite pyromancer. The man who had cooked your grandfather in his own armor. And through it all, I stood by the foot of the Iron Throne in my white armor, still as a corpse, doing my duty. Guarding my king and all his secrets."

Sansa wanted to tell Jaime he could stop. She could tell from his voice and the tension in his body how it affected him to talk about his time serving the Mad King. Arya had recited in excruciating detail what Jaime had told their mother about the deaths of their grandfather and uncle. _My poor Jaime has seen such horrors. _She didn't want Jaime to ever think about these things again. Now, she understood why he had nightmares sometimes. But, Sansa could see that he seemed to need to tell her this story, so she merely leaned against him, rubbing her hand comfortingly over his leg beneath the water and let him say his peace.

"My Sworn Brothers were all away, fighting the war and guarding Lyanna Stark, but Aerys liked to keep me close. I was Tywin Lannister's son, so he did not trust me. He wanted me where Varys could watch me, day and night. So I heard it all. Rhaeger met Robert on the Trident, and you know what happened there. When word reached the court, Aerys packed the queen off to Dragonstone with Prince Viserys. Princess Elia should have gone as well, but he forbade it. He thought he could keep Dorne loyal so long as he kept Elia and Aegon by his side. _The traitors want my city_, I heard him tell Rossart, _but I'll give them naught but ashes. Let Robert be king over charred bones and cooked meat._"

Sansa shivered, despite the hot bathwater and the steam that had filled the room. Jaime must have noticed, for he held her tighter before continuing his tale. "The Targaryens never bury their dead, they burn them. Aerys meant to have the greatest funeral pyre of them all. Though if truth be told, I do not believe he truly expected to die. Aerys thought the fire would transform him…that he would rise again, reborn as a dragon, and turn all his enemies to ash."

"Your father was racing south with Robert's van, but my father's forces reached the city first. Pycelle somehow convinced the king that his Warden of the West had come to defend him, so he opened the gates. The one time he _should_ have heeded Varys, and he ignored him. My father had held back from the war, brooding on all the wrongs that Aerys had done him and finally determined that House Lannister should be on the winning side. The Trident decided him."

"It fell to me to hold the Red Keep. I was only 17 years old then, and was tasked with fighting my own father and all of his forces. And I knew we were lost. I sent to Aerys asking his leave to make terms. My squire came back with a royal command. _'Bring me your father's head, if you are no traitor.'_ Aerys would have no yielding. Lord Rossart was with him, my messenger said. I knew what _that _meant. He was about to ignite the wildfire. So, I changed out of my white armor of the Kingsguard and went toward the throne room."

"When I came on Rossart, he was dressed as a common man-at-arms, hurrying to a postern gate, to carry out Aerys' mad wishes. I slew him first. Then I slew Aerys, before he could find someone else to carry his message to the pyromancers. Days later, I hunted down the others and slew them as well. Belis offered me gold and Garigus wept for mercy. Well, a sword's more merciful than fire, but I don't think Garigus much appreciated the kindness I showed him."

"Why did you put on your golden armor?" she asked, turning to face him, her fingers trailing over his shoulder.

"It didn't seem right…to slay the king while dressed in the armor of his sworn protector. My own concept of honor, I suppose."

Sansa knew all about Robert's rebellion but she had never heard anything like this. "Why does no one know this? That the Mad King planned to kill everyone."

"The knights of the Kingsguard are sworn to keep the king's secrets, sweet girl. Would you have me break my oath?" Jaime laughed. "Do you think your father, the noble Lord of Winterfell wanted to hear my feeble explanations when he found me sitting on the iron throne? He only had to look at me to judge me guilty."

Sansa ran her fingers over Jaime's jaw, her eyes scanning his. _There should be songs written about my Jaime. He is a brave knight. _She knew Jaime was right about her father – he had definite beliefs about right and wrong. Whenever Robb or Jon or Arya had gotten into trouble and tried to offer explanations, her father was generally unmoved. He would not have cared for Jaime's explanation of _why_ he'd broken his vow to protect the king. But she cared.

"You're a hero." She rested her hand on the side of his face. "You saved the realm as you always wanted to when you were but a boy becoming a knight."

"And then I tore the realm apart. I'm no hero, Sansa. I've done...many things to be ashamed of." She knew that he meant his children with Cersei when he spoke of tearing the realm apart. Though, Cersei was the one who passed her bastards off as the King's. She was the one who did not allow the King to get children on her. She didn't like to think about it, but Sansa knew Jaime had begged Cersei to leave Westeros with him and their children, but she never would. She wanted power more than him. He was not the one who wished to put their children on the throne.

Sansa covered Jaime's mouth with her own, kissing him as a brave and honorable knight should be kissed by his lady and adjusting her position to face him more fully. She kissed the side of his face as he wrapped his arm around her, nuzzling against her neck. "I love you, Jaime. I know you don't agree and that you don't wish to hear it…but you are a hero. Perhaps I was too hasty when I said there are no true knights in the world. You are the brave and handsome knight I always dreamed of when I was a little girl."

"I broke my vows."

"Perhaps some vows must be broken." Sansa believed her words, though she couldn't help thinking that her father would never agree with her. "You did what was necessary – what was right to protect the innocent."

She loved him so much, and to learn that he'd been scorned by the entire realm for longer than she'd been alive broke her heart. She had noticed how Jaime flinched whenever anyone called him "Kingslayer." Whenever anyone accused him of having no honor. Of being an oathbreaker. She thought him so brave and so good to sacrifice his name – his reputation – in order to save the realm and still keep his vows as best he could.

Jaime had done so much to protect others but…who protected him? She knew very well that there were many who would kill her husband on sight. She knew that there was a huge bounty on his head; that killing Jaime Lannister was a huge prize. The thought of Jaime being killed or taken prisoner terrified her. _I'll protect you, Jaime,_ she promised him silently. _ I won't allow anyone to harm you._ She rested her head on his shoulder, cuddling in his arms until the water cooled and they retired to their bed.

….

_I hope you liked it! Catelyn absolutely grew to love Ned, but I don't think she ever stopped loving Brandon, and I think it would absolutely affect her to hear Jaime's description of his death. And I think Sansa would be truly moved by the reason why Jaime killed the Mad King. _

_Next chapter: A little fluff and then Sansa speaks to her mother about Jaime and the child she carries_


	42. Chapter 42

Chapter 42

Jaime returned to his chamber after spending the morning training Arya and found Sansa asleep in their bed. She napped quite a lot now that she was further along in her pregnancy. She must have returned to their bed after breakfast. She was still asleep when he finished bathing, and he sat on the edge of the bed, watching her sleep. She looked so peaceful, curled up around his pillow, with one of her hands protectively curved over her belly. He doubted he could ever look as peaceful and innocent as his little wife did, still in her clothes, but snuggled beneath the furs covering their bed.

They had been living at Casterly Rock for more than three weeks, and she seemed to be settling in at her new home. Cersei had said that Sansa was stupid, but his little wife had proven quite the opposite to be true. Henryk, his father's old steward – now Jaime's – was quite impressed with the new Lady Lannister. He had told Jaime that she was a quick learner and that she reminded him very much of Lady Joanna, both in her temperament and in how she ran the castle. Jaime could not deny that his father had chosen rather well in selecting his bride. Sansa was already running the household almost all on her own and overseeing the acquisition of enough provisions to last what all feared would be a long and brutal winter.

Jaime had been just a boy during the last Winter. And he, Cersei and Tyrion had spent all of it hidden away inside the Rock. It was one of the benefits of living a life of privilege. Sansa had been no more than a babe in arms during the last Winter, and had no memory of it. Though, she knew a true winter would be nothing like the summer snows of her childhood which turned the North into an icy wonderland which she told him were so beautiful they would make her cry.

Both knew full well that scores of people died each winter – both from freezing and starvation – so he was grateful that Sansa and their babe would be safe inside the Rock, where they would be warm and have food to eat.

He'd received a troubling letter from his uncle, Ser Kevan, in the capitol. Cersei was losing all control – both of herself and of the Realm. For someone who had been so eager and insistent upon ruling, she was completely unfit to do so. She'd allowed far too much power to the Faith, and her refusal to honor the debts of the crown was causing economic unrest throughout the realm. Jaime knew he was right to have taken so many soldiers with him when he left King's Landing. Though there tended to be little movement of armies during winter, he'd be able to keep Sansa safe in the unlikely event of unrest.

Cersei always liked to think of herself as Lord Tywin with teats, but she was wrong. Jaime couldn't help thinking that their father had been as relentless and implacable as a glacier, where Cersei was all wildfire, especially when thwarted. While his sister did not lack for wits, she had no judgment, and no patience. Jaime had noticed, when he returned to King's Landing, that she had developed a serious paranoia that enemies were surrounding her, ready to steal her power at any moment.

It pained Jaime to think about the way that being Robert's Queen – and then the unfettered power of being Queen Regent over Joffrey and Tommen - had changed her. Cersei had always been the dominant twin – everywhere except in bed – but Jaime had not cared. He knew she longed for power, and liked few people, but he had never before seen the depth of her hatred for Tyrion nor her cruelty toward those she viewed as a threat to her quest for power. Though, perhaps he wasn't really looking.

Jaime supposed, from the moment Joffrey was born, she had been consumed with thoughts of power – obsessed with the day she could put her son on the throne, and rule through him. Cersei's ambition was for Ser Kevan to deal with now. Jaime returned his gaze to his sleeping wife. _I can't worry about Cersei and her crazy schemes. I can't save her from herself. Sansa is my responsibility now._

Sansa began to stir and Jaime moved closer, stroking her hair as she lazily opened her eyes. She smiled, leaning into his touch. "How long have I been asleep?"

"A few hours. Did you come up here right after breakfast?"

She nodded. "I spoke briefly with Lady Alys about the preparations for winter and then came back up here. I only intended to close my eyes for a few moments…" she said sheepishly.

Jaime chuckled. "You have every reason to be tired…you're well otherwise?"

She nodded. "Don't worry. The little one and I are both fine." He ran his fingers through her hair, looking at her affectionately.

"It's my duty, as your lord husband, to worry about your health and your comfort."

She sat up and moved towards him, cuddling against his bare chest and tilting her chin up to kiss him. "You smell good. All fresh and clean. You smell like home." He'd used some of her pine scented soap, knowing she liked it. "Is my sister behaving herself after…" she trailing off, unwilling to speak the words.

Jaime knew Sansa was still disturbed by her little sister having killed Ser Ilyn Payne. Jaime had written to King's Landing to say that the King's Justice had passed in his sleep, and that his remains would be sent with the silent sisters to his childhood home to be buried. It had actually been the recommendation of his steward, Henryk, that no one know the true manner of Ser Ilyn's death. Not that Lady Alys's husband knew who was to blame. Rather, he felt it best that the remaining soldiers not know there was a traitor within their ranks.

Jaime wrapped his arm around Sansa as her fingers gently trailed over his chest. "Arya hasn't done anything else improper…that I'm aware of. Though…one of her guards tells me that he heard her crying the other night. Nightmares. I spoke to her about it…" He trailed up and looked at her, feeling guilty. "I know I'm not her father or her brother. It may not have been proper-"

"You are her brother now," Sansa assured him. "Now that we are married."

"Don't tell her that."

"I didn't say to call her 'little sister.' As much as it delights your perverse idea of humor." Jaime chuckled as Sansa leaned further into his arms, resting his hand on her belly.

"She did tell me the other day that I'm rather old to be your husband."

Sansa rolled her eyes and rested her hand on the back of his neck as she spoke. "I was afraid, at first, when Cersei said we were to marry. Because I didn't know you and…you are much older and…I was afraid you might hurt me. But, you were very kind to me and…I learned there was no reason to fear you."

"Though I am old enough to be your father," he murmured, kissing her nose. "A man of thirty five sleeping with a girl just shy of seventeen. I suppose it's not unusual in a political marriage."

Sansa sat up on her knees and wrapped her arms around his neck. "I suppose, I always did admire lithe, beautiful _boys_ before," she said, blushing heavily, "but then…I really looked at you and…you're so handsome. When I first…when we were first together and…" Jaime smiled as she fumbled over her words. "The first time I saw you –"

"Naked?" he asked with a smirk.

She nodded, blushing. "You're so golden and beautiful and strong," her eyes were roaming over him and the gleam in her eye made his body stir.

He kissed her softly before setting her on the bed and standing, while he was still able to walk away from her. "Trying to lure me back into bed? This pregnancy has made you rather shameless in your pursuit of physical pleasure."

She glared at him as he walked towards his closet, stripping off his towel and turning to see her gaze on him. "I know how much you enjoy looking at me," he said with a smirk.

"And Jaime," she went on as he dressed, "you don't treat me as a silly little girl…the way a man of your age might. I do feel that you respect me as your wife. That I am…Lady of this castle."

"You are. Henryk would agree that a woman twice your age could not oversee it better and the staff has many complimentary things to say about you." She smiled, accepting his praise of her with pleasure. He often complimented her beauty and her sweetness. It seemed she also appreciated his compliments for her more practical qualities. "Put on your warmest cape – perhaps two."

"Why?"

"Indulge me."

…..

Sansa held tight to Jaime's hand as he led her through Casterly Rock. He could see that she was curious about what they were going to do, but she didn't press him for details – merely dressing warmly as he had asked and allowing it to be a surprise. He escorted her away from the residence portion of the Rock, and up a long flight of stairs and through torch-lit hallways to a large elevator deep inside the Rock. The elevator car was lifted through a complex winch system, cranked by the soldiers who would wait below.

Sansa looked at it hesitantly as two soldiers opened the large metal door. "You're quite safe, Sansa. Tyrion and I have ridden in it hundreds of times." Cersei had always hated the lift and usually refused to accompany Jaime to the top.

Jaime imagined that Sansa had never seen anything like the massive elevator before her – though Tyrion had described it to her before, when he'd told her about his trip to the Wall with Jon Snow. Apparently there was a larger one, though very similar to what was before her, at Castle Black, to take men to the top of the Wall. She cautiously stepped into the large metal cage, and Jaime followed after her. She clung to his arm nervously once the door closed, and the soldiers began turning the massive wheels of the winch that raised the elevator.

She leaned forward slightly, looking through the open cage, down to the bottom of the elevator shaft before quickly moving back. "The trick is not to look down," he said with a smile.

She nodded, holding him even more securely. "Are we going to the top of the Rock?"

"Perhaps," he said with a smile. Sansa smiled in excitement when the lift came to a stop. "Here we are." There were snow flurries kicking up as Jaime opened the doors to the lift. He watched as Sansa looked up at the snow, a smile on her face as the flakes landed on her hair. He shivered as the cold hit him and he escorted Sansa out to look out over the battlements. "You can look far across the Sunset Sea if you're on this side of the Rock and all of Lannisport is on the other."

Her eyes lit up as they walked to the edge of the battlements and she looked out at the Sunset Sea. "It's so beautiful." On their journey to Casterly Rock, Sansa had told him that she had never left Winterfell, and never been near the Sea. Not until her time in King's Landing, when she was kept under lock and key by his horrible relations and could take no pleasure in it. "It seems to go on forever," she murmured, her eyes searching for the horizon. Sansa hesitantly looked over the edge before quickly moving back. "We're so high up here."

Jaime pointed out a particularly high cliff down below. "When I was a boy, I used to jump off of that cliff in to the sea."

"Weren't you scared?"

Jaime shook his head. "It was…exciting. To plunge through the air – completely free – before hitting the ocean below. It felt like flying." He couldn't help thinking how much simpler life was then – when he, Cersei and Tyrion were children growing up at the Rock.

"Don't mention that to Arya. She'll insist on jumping." Sansa continued gazing at the ledge. "Would Cersei jump into the ocean with you?"

"Sansa-"

"She is your sister and…I know your memories of growing up here are filled with her. You don't have to pretend that they aren't." She turned and looked at him expectantly.

"Cersei…was too afraid to jump. So, she told father what I was doing and…I thought he would kill me."

"Why did she tell your father? Was she afraid something would happen to you?"

He shook his head. "No. She didn't want me to do something that she couldn't do. She was too afraid to jump herself so…she made sure I couldn't either. She always flew into a rage whenever I was able to do something that she couldn't do. " Sansa nodded and continued gazing out at the sea, while Jaime considered that small bit of selfishness from Cersei during their childhood. He knew there were plenty more examples. He looked at Sansa, curious what she was thinking. "You are happy here, aren't you, Sansa?"

"How can you even ask that? A year ago, I was being stripped naked by Joffrey and beaten. Every day. I didn't think I would see another year. I wasn't sure I wanted to see another year. And now…I'm married to a handsome knight, who loves me and treats me as I always imagined my lord husband would treat me. And I carry our babe in my belly." She looked up at him with tears in her eyes. "I could not be happier, Jaime."

Jaime looked at his sweet little wife, her belly swollen with his babe, and felt overcome with rage at the thought of the abuse she suffered in King's Landing. He hated the very thought of this sweet girl wishing she was dead. _She's mine now. Mine to protect and care for. _Jaime shivered again as the wind howled. "Are you too cold up here?" he asked, wrapping his arm around her. The wind was fierce at the height they were at.

"I'm fine." She looked at him playfully. "You're cold because you don't have any Northern blood in you. You're used to the warmth of the South." She wrapped her arms around him and rested her head against his chest. "You're not used to winter. I can keep you warm, Jaime."

He smiled, wrapping his arms around her and stroking her hair. "I'm still a bit chilly," he said with a smile. "Perhaps I could trouble you to raise my temperature a few degrees?"

Sansa smiled and leaned up to kiss him. He held her in place with his hand on the back of her head as he kissed her even more passionately, her arms wrapped around his waist. Sansa had been all over him lately. She seemed to have taken the midwife's statements that she would be more desirous of his sexual attention as permission to lure him into bed quite often to indulge her baser cravings. He certainly wasn't complaining, though he did enjoy her outraged expression when he teased her about her wanton behavior.

He felt Sansa's eager little hands slip under his cloak, trying to burrow further under his clothes. Jaime chuckled, breaking their kiss, certain he would freeze to death if she tried to strip and mount him out in the cold. "I think it's a bit cold up here for that."

She blushed and kissed him once more before taking his hand and walking to the edge of the battlements once more, this time to the side of the Rock looking out over Lannisport. She leaned against his chest and pulled his arms around her body, moving her hands over his arms to create warmth. "Will you show me Lannisport one day?"

He pulled her warm little body against his and rested his chin on her head. "Of course. All of Lannisport looks to the Lord and Lady of the Rock as _their_ Lord and Lady, though the Lannisters are no longer kings. Once winter has come and gone, I'll take you into Lannisport and show you all the places I loved to go as a child." Jaime was still bothered by her words. He moved his hand down to her belly as he nuzzled his nose into the warmth against her neck. "Next year, our babe will be here, and we'll have many years after that to be together, and to watch our child grow up."

He felt her nod as she continued to move her hands over his arms. "I want many, many years to love you, Jaime." She turned in his arms, resting her head against his chest. "Can we go back to our chamber? I think you're getting too cold," she said mischievously.

….

Sansa had taken to wandering the halls of Casterly Rock in the mornings, while Jaime and Arya sparred. She wanted to know every inch of her new home. As always, her guards trailed after her. She had told Jaime that she didn't need guards inside Casterly Rock, but he had argued that it was a time of war, and there were a number of prisoners staying there – not only her family, but the Northerners.

Sansa had less than three moons left until the babe was to come, and she found herself growing restless. Jaime had grown quite protective of her, and had instructed her guards to make sure that she didn't wear herself out or do anything that might harm her or the babe. Lady Alys and her handmaiden, Pia, had already helped her arrange the nursery, so there was little for her to do to prepare for the child.

As she walked down a hallway she had not explored yet, she saw her mother walking towards her, her eyes fastened on Sansa's swollen belly. Sansa had not seen her mother since that first night when Jaime had taken her from Walder Frey's dungeons – several moons ago. When she had said that Sansa wasn't her daughter anymore. Sansa had often wondered if she'd ever see her mother, or if they would continue to live in the same castle, never seeing one another.

Arya had told her that Lady Catelyn had asked about her. And about the child she carried. That small bit of information gave her hope that her mother still cared about her, despite her words. Sansa would never give up her relationship with Jaime, but she would have liked for her mother to be a part of her life as well.

As the two women approached each other, Sansa stopped, wondering how her mother would receive her. "You are much further along than when I last saw you," she commented, tearing her eyes from Sansa's belly. "When is the babe due?"

"The midwife says the babe should come in less than three moons."

Her mother nodded. "And you and the babe are…healthy? You're feeling well?"

"Yes."

"Arya told me you were well. She breaks her fast with you each morning?"

Sansa nodded. "We never got along before…and sometimes we don't now but, I'm glad she's here. I had thought…I'd not see her again."

"She spends quite a lot of time with the Kingslayer."

Sansa wished her mother wouldn't call Jaime that. Especially now that Sansa knew the truth behind why Jaime had killed the Mad King. She also wished she weren't quaking for fear of what her mother might say to her. As if she were a little girl about to be scolded.

_You're not a little girl. You are the Lady of Casterly Rock and Jaime Lannister's wife. Jaime even said that you are running the household well, as should be expected of his lady wife. You are a woman grown, soon to be a mother. You have no reason to fear anyone._ Sansa forced herself to stand a little straighter.

"Arya and _Jaime_ are both fond of swords," Sansa began quietly. "She's happy to have someone who will teach her. Jaime indulges her…for my sake, I expect. Though I think he's come to enjoy her company."

"You see nothing wrong with encouraging her friendship with the Kingslayer?"

Sansa bristled. "Please don't call my husband that." Now that she knew why Jaime had killed the Mad King – that he had been protecting the realm – she would not abide anyone disrespecting her husband with that epithet. "If I can be cordial to you, after telling me that I'm not your daughter…I'd hope you would at least do me that kindness."

"I've lost you to him forever, haven't I? Perhaps I'll lose all of my children before this war is over – to death or to the Lannisters."

"Mother, Jaime hasn't taken me away. There's room for the both of you in my life," she said hopefully. _Please, Mother. Please don't turn me away from you again. _She so wanted her mother to talk to and advise her now that her child would be born soon. But it would have to be on her terms. Lady Catelyn would have to accept that Jaime was part of her life. That he was her husband and the father of her child.

"I worry for you, Sansa." Sansa closed her eyes and nodded sadly, knowing her mother wasn't willing to accept her because of Jaime. "You're putting yourself in the middle of a bad situation. Queen Cersei is not going to take kindly to you taking away her lover."

She met her mother's eyes and knew her own expression was not a friendly one. Sansa had no intention of allowing her mother to turn Jaime's men against him by speaking of his relationship with Cersei. He could be executed for it. "I'd ask you not to speak of things you know nothing about. You think that you know Jaime – that you know the kind of man he is – but you don't. And you know nothing about our relationship. You know nothing about what exists between us – about what we have been through together. Jaime…he is my lord husband. And he is to be the father of your first grandchild. That should earn him some small amount of respect in how you speak of him."

"I should respect him?"

"As he respects you. He doesn't speak ill of you to me or to Arya, though you don't show him the same courtesy. You don't have to like him, but..."

"I will _never_ respect him, after what he's done. The crimes he's committed –"

Sansa looked behind her mother, at her guards. "Would you please escort my mother back to her chamber?"

"Of course, Lady Lannister." The soldiers moved closer and gestured toward her mother. "Lady Stark? This way please."

She could see the anger in her mother's eyes, but she didn't care. Her mother looked at her belly once more before focusing on the large diamond necklace on her neck. About a week earlier, Jaime had noticed that Sansa never wore the jewels he had given her, outside of their chambers. He had noticed and told her that she should feel free to wear them – that he knew she liked them. She felt it would be frivolous to wear them, but he had insisted that they were hers and there was no reason to let them sit untouched in her jewel box. "Well, _Lady Lannister_, take care. Enjoy your jewels from the Kingslayer. I thought I raised you to value more than such meaningless trifles."

"You did. You asked if the babe and I are in good health. We are because Jaime has taken care of me. He's taken very good care of me since the night he returned to King's Landing. I would give back every single jewel Jaime's given me, every new gown…for his love. That's all I want from him. His love for me and our baby. And that's the one thing you wish to take away from me. Good day, mother."

Sansa turned on her heel, and could feel her hands shaking and tears welling in her eyes. Standing up to her mother was difficult, but she knew it had to be done if her mother was ever to give up the idea of separating she and Jaime. Sansa ran her hand over her belly. _You will have a happy life, little one. With parents who love you very much._

….

_I hope all of you enjoyed the newest update. Catelyn needs to learn that Sansa is not the same silly girl she was when they were last together in Winterfell and how Jaime has helped her to become the woman she is now. Keep the reviews coming!_

_Next chapter: Cersei writes for Jaime's help_


	43. Chapter 43

Chapter 43

"Lord Lannister? Lady Stark wishes to speak to you."

Jaime looked up from his desk and met the gaze of one of the soldiers he had assigned to guard Catelyn Stark. "Where is my lady wife this afternoon?" He didn't wish for Sansa to be upset by whatever her mother had to say – especially now that the babe was to come quite soon. The guards assigned to Sansa were under orders to keep the two women apart, unless it was Sansa who specifically sought out her mother. He knew they had run into one another a few days earlier and had words, though Sansa's main guard told Jaime that Lady Lannister had stood up for herself admirably. And Sansa had recounted most of the conversation to him later that night over dinner.

"I believe Lady Lannister and Lady Tully are having tea downstairs."

Jaime nodded. "Send Lady Stark in." Jaime poured himself a cup of wine as he waited for Catelyn Stark. It wasn't long before she appeared in the doorway, and Jaime instructed her guards to close the door to give them privacy. "What can I do for you, Mother Stark?" He couldn't keep the smirk off his face at her reaction to his continuing to call her "Mother Stark." Jaime found it rather amusing that Catelyn Stark - a woman only a few years older than he - was his good-mother.

"I wanted to speak to you about my son, Bran, and how he came to fall from that tower."

Jaime sighed. He should have known she would want to discuss something like this and refused to see her. "This again? If you showed half as much concern for the welfare of your living children as you show for an injury suffered by a child who is now deceased…perhaps you would have reconciled with Sansa by now."

"I want to know what happened to my son."

"Why? Will it bring him back? Will it accomplish _anything_?"

"I have a right to know how he fell. I already know that you Lannisters sent an assassin to kill my son in his bed. That you gave your catspaw a bag of silver to make certain Bran would never wake."

"Did I now?" Jaime asked in amusement. "You _know_ that do you? Think what you will about me, but I have never yet hired anyone to do my killing. If I had wanted your son dead, I would have slain him myself."

"If you did not send the killer, then it was the Imp."

"Tyrion did no such thing."

"Then why did the assassin have his dagger?"

"What dagger was that?" Jaime asked in a bored tone, though Tyrion had already described the dagger to him when he had told him about Lady Stark's accusations.

"It was so long," she said, holding her hands apart. "Plain, but finely made, with a blade of Valyrian steel and a dragonbone hilt. Your brother won it from Lord Baelish at the tourney on Prince Joffrey's name day, before your trip to Winterfell."

"Tyrion won it, you say? How?" Jaime wanted Lady Catelyn to see for herself how Littlefinger had led her astray – how little sense his story made. He wished for her to see that her trust in her childhood friend was misplaced.

"He won it wagering on you when you tilted against the Knight of the Flowers." She seemed confused for a moment – no doubt seeing the flaw in the tale Littlefinger had told her. "No…was it the other way?"

"Tyrion always backed me in the lists," Jaime said, "but that day Ser Loras unhorsed me. A mischance, I took the boy too lightly, but no matter. Whatever my brother wagered, he _lost_. He won nothing that day…but that dagger _did_ change hands, as I recall it now. Robert showed it to me that night at the feast. His Grace loved to salt my wounds, especially when drunk. And when was he not drunk?"

"Petyr swore to me that the Imp won the dagger from him. He has been almost like a brother, since we were children at Riverrun…he looked after Ned for me while he was in King's Landing- "

Jaime began to laugh. "Yes, he certainly did. You really don't know the truth about Littlefinger, do you? He betrayed your husband. It was Littlefinger himself who held a blade to your husband's throat when my sister took him for a traitor."

She was shaking her head in disbelief. "He wouldn't do that to me."

"I remember when he challenged Brandon Stark for your hand…surely you haven't forgotten? He was willing to kill one Stark brother in order to have you for himself, why not another?"

"That was years ago. He was just a boy."

"It appears time has not dampened his affections. My sister herself told me of his actions against Lord Stark. She certainly had no reason to lie to me about it. And when Littlefinger couldn't have you…he tried to replace you with your daughter."

"What do you mean?"

"My father told me that after Stannis was defeated at King's Landing – largely because Littlefinger assisted in joining the Lannister and Tyrell forces - Littlefinger asked for Sansa as a bride. As a thank you gift." Jaime's tone conveyed full well the lecherous intent he felt Petyr Baelish had for Sansa.

Lady Catelyn paled. "I-I'm certain he wished to return her to me." He could tell from her voice that she didn't believe her own words.

Jaime nodded. "I'm sure that's why he took such a keen interest in knowing whether our marriage had been consummated – in knowing whether or not she remained a maiden. I saw him manhandle Sansa when she refused to flee the capitol with him. He said I could never love her as she deserved to be loved, implying he could." Her mouth dropped open. "I don't pretend to be a good or honorable man…but I'm not a liar." Jaime stood and leaned against the wall, looking at Lady Catelyn, and hoping she realized that Littlefinger was no one to trust.

He'd successfully distracted her from her questions about her son's fall from that tower, for now, but he knew she would keep asking. "Sansa is due to give birth to my child in only a few weeks. And I will not allow you to dig into the past in an effort to separate us. She does not like to think or talk about the past. Nor do I. Surely, you must realize that upsetting Sansa at such a late stage in her pregnancy could harm her as well as the child she carries. I hope your hatred for me does not extend to the child in your daughter's womb."

Lady Stark looked down at her lap and shook her head. "I want…I want my children back. As they were before all of you came to Winterfell and ruined our lives."

"I'm afraid it's far too late for that," he said gently. "As much as you may long for the past, that life is gone."

"I know that all too well." She stared down at her hands in her lap before looking back up at him. "Sansa certainly enjoys playing lady of the castle."

Jaime smirked. Sansa had told him about ending her argument with her mother by ordering Lady Catelyn escorted to her rooms. "She _is_ lady of the castle. I suppose I should compliment you, for teaching her to run a household properly. She's done a remarkable job learning to run Casterly Rock. I expect you spent a good deal of time preparing her to be a lord's wife. And Sansa is…a wonderful wife. And she deserves to exert a bit of power…after what Joffrey did to her."

"After what _your son_ did to her."

He met her eyes. "Sansa is well aware of my… relation to Joffrey. Mercifully he's dead and can never hurt her again. Or else, I might have been forced to put him down myself. I'd have been a kinslayer as well as a kingslayer."

She was visibly surprised at his words about Joffrey. "How does the queen feel about my daughter usurping her place?" she asked quietly.

"Cersei has no more use for a brother who is a cripple, than she did for one who was a dwarf. And Sansa…occupies a place in my life all her own. She's no replacement for anyone." Jaime looked at her carefully. "Is there anything else?" She shook her head and rose from her seat, leaving him alone.

Once he was alone again, Jaime looked down at the letter that had just arrived from the capitol and sighed. It appeared Cersei had gotten herself into quite a mess in a rather short space of time. Their father had only been dead for a few short months, and Cersei had gone from triumphant queen regent to a prisoner of the Faith. She stood accused of the murder of the High Septon. She had evidently already confessed to fornication and incest with Lancel. Jaime supposed he should be grateful that she kept his name out of it, though he knew it was to save herself from being executed for treason. Though it would disgrace her to admit to fucking Lancel, it was not treason. Were she to admit that he was the father of her children, they would both end up dead. As would Tommen and Myrcella.

_I love you. I love you. I love you._

Jaime read her last words over and over to himself. He found it rather convenient that she suddenly loved him, now that she needed his protection. He could not stop thinking about her cruel, spiteful words during his time in King's Landing. He could still hear her voice calling him a bitter, useless cripple. He could still see her fucking Osmund Kettleblack. _Why can't she name her lover as her champion?_ The very idea that she'd name a one-handed knight as her champion in a trial by battle was laughable. _Certainly she must know it would be a death sentence for the both of us._ Of course, Cersei had always said that they came into the world together – Jaime holding onto her ankle – and they would leave the world together. Perhaps she intended for them both to die.

There was a time when Jaime would have been gone from Casterly Rock the moment he read her plea for help. Even today, when he first read Cersei's letter, Jaime had wanted to help her. Then he had stared down at his hands and taken in the sight of the gold – his false right one, and the wedding band on his left. He had Sansa, and their little one to think of. If he went to King's Landing for Cersei, he might never return to his little wife. He might never see her sweet smile again or hold her in his arms again. He might never hold his child – just as he never held the others. _I can't risk my future with Sansa. I can't leave her. _Jaime sighed, throwing the letter down in frustration and walking into his bedchamber.

…

"Jaime?" Sansa walked into her husband's solar, looking for him, and saw a letter open on his desk. She looked at the seal and saw that it was from King's Landing. She scanned over the text from the Maester, writing on behalf of Cersei, detailing that Cersei was to be tried for killing the High Septon and sought Jaime's help – to be her champion in a trial by battle. Then she got to Cersei's own fervent message.

_Come at once. I need you now as I have never needed you before. I love you. I love you. I love you. Please, Jaime, you must come at once._

Sansa felt fear grip her heart with a force that left her trembling. She could scarce draw breath. _How can she ask Jaime to be her champion when he's lost his sword hand? Does she wish for him to die along with her? _Jaime had improved a great deal as a left-handed swordfighter, but she feared he would not be able to prevail in a trial by combat – a battle to the death - against whomever stood as the champion of The Faith. _What if he dies? He'll never meet our child._

"Sansa?"

She jumped at the sound of Jaime's voice and dropped the parchment on his desk. "I'm sorry," she said, gesturing toward the letter. "I was looking for you and I…I didn't mean to read your letter." She turned to look out the window and felt the tears welling in her eyes. "Do you have to leave right away?" she asked quietly, hating the weakness in her voice. Sansa fought back a sob as she rested her hands on her belly.

She heard him snatch the letter off the desk. "Sansa, I'm not going anywhere."

Sansa turned, not certain she heard him right. She realized tears were streaming down her face, blurring her vision as she watched Jaime throw the letter into the fire. "You're not going to King's Landing?" she whispered.

"No. My place is here with you." Jaime walked towards her, and took her in his arms, holding her. Sansa wished she weren't so weak, but she clutched him tightly and began to cry in relief. "Don't cry, sweet girl," he whispered, stroking her hair. "I'm not leaving you. I'll never leave you. I promise." She looked up at him and watched his face as he wiped her tears away. "If I went to King's Landing…I wouldn't be back in time for when the child comes. I'd probably never come back alive," he said sadly, no doubt sharing her thoughts that he would likely die. "I promised that I would be in the birthing chamber with you the whole time. And I mean to keep my promise."

"What about Cersei?"

Jaime sighed, clutching her tighter. "I can't risk my life for her. My life…is not entirely my own anymore, Sansa." He rested his forehead against hers. "My life also belongs to you. And our little one." He kissed her gently.

"I couldn't bear the thought of losing you."

"It's all right," he said, holding her against his chest. "You have no reason to cry, Sansa. You're in no danger of losing me."

"I love you, Jaime," she whispered against his chest.

He led her to the large sofa sitting opposite the fire and sat, pulling her onto his lap. She kissed him before resting her head on his shoulder. "And I love you, Sansa. You, my sweet, are my whole world. You and our babe," he said with a smile, rubbing his hand over her belly. She giggled as the baby kicked at his hand in response. "See, the babe agrees. We are a family."

"It can't have been easy for you…to ignore her request. She is your family and…I know there must be a part of you that..." Sansa trailed off, unable to voice aloud her belief that Jaime must still love Cersei a little. She is the mother of his children, though he says he doesn't see them that way.

Jaime nodded, looking down at his hand on Sansa's belly. "She is my family. My twin. But I've given her the better part of 20 years of my life…I gave up all that I could have had…the life I could have had, for her. I joined the Kingsguard to be close to her – so I'd never marry and be separated from her. I gave up any right to have a wife, to have children, to be Lord of the Rock. All at her demand. All so she could have what she wanted. I can't do that anymore. I have to consider my own happiness. And yours, sweet girl. I'd never allow her needs to come before yours. And I want to be here with you when our babe is born."

"I can't wait to hold our baby," she whispered. She lifted her head and wrapped her arm around Jaime's neck. "And I can't wait to see our little one in your arms."

He kissed her and the kicking grew even stronger. "It seems our little lion cub can't wait either."

Sansa smiled and rested her hand over his as the child inside her kicked and kicked. She could see the love and wonder on Jaime's face as he looked down at their hands on her belly. She said a silent thanks to the gods for keeping Jaime safe with her. For breaking Cersei's hold on him. She pushed his head toward her and kissed him. She felt his arm with the golden hand wrap around her tighter as both of her hands moved to his head, pulling him close to her. He kept his hand on her belly as they kissed. She felt him smile as her tongue sought admittance to his mouth.

"Trying to lure me into bed?" he whispered, returning her passionate kiss.

She smirked at his teasing tone as she looked into his glittering eyes, her fingers brushing his hair off his face. "Sometimes…I'm so afraid that this is all a dream and…I'm going to wake up and you and…" She looked down at her swollen belly, "…all of this will disappear. And I'll be back in the capitol, naked, while Joffrey has the Kingsguard beat me."

"That will not happen." He kissed her forehead as she leaned against him. "I fear losing you as well. All the time. I know that I don't deserve you and I worry…someone or something will take you away from me. I may not deserve you, sweet girl, but I certainly mean to keep you."

She smiled and kissed him over and over again, only pulling away when she heard someone clearing their voice from the doorway. She met her Uncle Edmure's gaze and blushed heavily, sliding off Jaime's lap to sit beside him.

"Great timing as always, Tully," Jaime said in annoyance.

She could see that Edmure regretted embarrassing her, as she looked down, her arm looped through Jaime's. "Is your babe kicking quite a bit?"

She nodded, meeting his eyes. _He does look so much like Robb_. "Does yours as well?"

"It does. Roslin…it makes her smile every time the child moves." Edmure turned his attention to Jaime. "It's Lady Roslin that brings me here. I wondered if…" he trailed off and Sansa could see he was uncomfortable with whatever he was about to ask.

"Spit it out, Tully." Sansa gave Jaime a long-suffering look at his impatience.

"I've noticed there is an empty bedchamber adjoining my own and…I had thought that perhaps my lady wife could be moved into that room." Sansa smiled, glad that he had been able to forgive Roslin. She knew it would greatly ease Lady Roslin's mind that she would have Edmure's affection when her child was born.

"I'll speak to the staff and make sure her things are moved before nightfall," Sansa said quickly.

She felt Jaime's eyes on her. "It seems my lady wife is only too happy to help you," he said dryly.

Sansa glared at him. "Must you be so tiresome?" she whispered. Jaime had told Sansa weeks ago that he'd put Edmure in that room deliberately, expecting to move Roslin into the adjoining chamber once they patched up their differences.

Jaime smirked at her. "Sansa runs the household…I certainly have no objection."

Edmure bowed slightly in Sansa's direction. "Thank you, my dear. Jaime."

Once Edmure and his guards had left, Sansa turned toward Jaime. "Do you have to play with everyone like that?"

He smiled. "I don't know…I think you rather like how I play with you," he whispered, kissing her. He lifted her back onto his lap, groaning dramatically. "You are getting heavy."

She smacked his shoulder before curling up in his arms, burying her face against his neck as he placed his hand on her belly once more, no doubt thinking about the arrival of their child, as she did. Sansa threaded her fingers through Jaime's hair, knowing that he must be worried about his sister, though she knew he wasn't comfortable speaking to her about it. Sansa supposed she wasn't especially comfortable hearing it. _Cersei's_ _predicament must weigh on him. But he chose me_, she reminded herself. _Cersei will have to fend for herself. She's good at that._

….

_Thank you all for reading. I'm glad that you continue to enjoy the story. Though Jaime has chosen Sansa, don't think that we have heard the last from Cersei. She's not one to give up without a fight. Though we'll be free of her for a few chapters. _

_Hmm...I wonder if we can reach 400 reviews before the next chapter is posted?_

_Next Chapter: Roslin has her baby (I know, Sansa's due first, but due dates aren't exact)_


	44. Chapter 44

Chapter 44

As she helped her dress, Pia informed Sansa that Lady Roslin had gone to the birthing bed, late the night before. The babe was coming a few weeks earlier than expected, though Pia told her that was common and that the midwife did not seem to be worried about the health of the babe. It had been fortunate that Sansa herself was expected to go into labor any day, so the midwife was already staying at Casterly Rock awaiting the arrival of Jaime's heir.

Sansa was excited about the arrival of her babe, but she was also beginning to feel a bit scared as the time drew near. She was afraid of giving birth and that she wouldn't know how to be a good mother. She remembered when Rickon was a baby, but she'd still been a little girl. And Rickon had not been _her_ baby. Soon, a tiny, helpless creature would be placed in her arms and she would be responsible for its care. She was terrified that she would do something wrong. That she would make a mistake. She wished that her mother was willing to help her – to give her advice and show her how to take care of the babe – but Sansa had accepted that her mother was not interested in helping her. _At least I have Jaime to help me take care of our babe and learn to be a good mother._

After breaking her fast with Jaime and Arya, Sansa waited for them to head toward the practice grounds before she made her way to Lady Roslin's bedchamber. She knew that the midwife was with Roslin, but she thought Roslin would like to have a friend with her in the birthing chamber – since she had no family at the Rock. She didn't have a mother or a sister here to be with her. Though, Sansa had to admit, she was afraid that witnessing her friend in labor would only increase her own fear about giving birth.

As Sansa neared the birthing chamber, she saw her uncle Edmure sitting on a bench outside, his guards waiting at the end of the hallway. _I wonder if Jaime will actually come into the birthing chamber with me. _ He had said that he would, but Sansa knew it was shockingly improper for him to do so. _Though, Jaime does delight in being improper_. Sansa was frightened enough of giving birth, that for once she didn't care about propriety. She wanted Jaime to be with her.

Edmure stood as she neared him. "How is Roslin?" she asked quietly.

He shrugged his shoulders, though he appeared anxious. "She started having labor pains early last night. I haven't been told anything since the midwife went in there. That was hours ago. I'm told childbirth is generally a bit of a mystery for the father," he said with a wry smile.

"Would you like me to go inside? I could come back out and tell you what's going on."

"I wouldn't wish you to trouble yourself."

She smiled. "It's no trouble. Lady Roslin's mother is not here and…I don't want her to be alone. I imagine she's frightened."

"Your mother is in with her. Cat had the same thought as you."

"Oh," Sansa said quietly. _She's forgiven Roslin for her part in the plot to kill Robb, then. But she won't forgive me for loving my husband_. Sansa pulled her hand away from the door, suddenly uncomfortable and having no wish to bring any sort of awkwardness or argument into Roslin's birthing chamber. She could see Edmure regretted saying anything about her mother being with Roslin during her childbirth. "Would it be all right if I waited here with you?" she asked quietly. "If you wish to be alone, just tell me and I'll leave you to your solitude."

"I'd appreciate the company, Sansa. Let me help you." Sansa allowed her uncle to help her take a seat beside him as she twisted her fingers together nervously. "Are you feeling well, Sansa? You and the babe?"

"Yes. I hope it arrives soon. I'm very excited to see what it looks like – if it looks like me or like Jaime."

She heard Roslin scream in pain and her eyes widened. _Oh, gods, perhaps I don't wish for labor to come._ "Perhaps you shouldn't hear this, Sansa," he said quietly. "I'm sure it sounds worse to us out here than it is in there." She hoped he was correct. It sounded awful.

"Do you know, will the babe be all right? Coming early?"

"The babe has not come so early to be concerned." He looked at her curiously. "Roslin tells me that your babe should come any day now."

She nodded, though she was a bit distracted by what she imagined was going on in the birthing chamber. "It's kind of my mother to help Roslin through the birth. It's nice for her that my mother has forgiven her and…welcomed her into her family," she said quietly. More to herself than anything.

"I didn't mean to hurt your feelings by telling you Cat was in there."

Sansa shook her head. "It's all right. It's not your fault. She'll never accept my marriage to Jaime. No matter what I say. I suppose I need to accept that she doesn't want to be my mother anymore."

"I don't think that's true, Sansa."

"She only wants me as her daughter if I turn away from my husband. I can't do that. Not even for my own mother."

Edmure sighed. "I'm not so blind that I don't see the affection between yourself and th- between yourself and Jaime. He loves you very much, it seems. And I know you love him. I can see how much the both of you are looking forward to the birth of your child."

"We are." Sansa ran her hand over her belly to comfort herself. The baby was moving all the time now. Jaime liked feeling the babe move even more than she did. When they were in bed together, he would lie awake for hours, moving his hand over her belly, feeling their child move.

"I appreciate all you did to bring Roslin and I back together. I have tried to speak to your mother about you and Jaime. She's rather stubborn."

"It's all right, uncle." She turned and looked at him, meeting the blue eyes that were so like her own. "You remind me of Robb," she said quietly.

"And you remind me of Cat, when she was your age. Your brother, Robb, was born at Riverrun, during Robert's Rebellion. Ned and Cat had hastily married after Brandon's death and then Ned was off to war, leaving her at Riverrun. She was all alone when she learned she was with child. She birthed Robb alone – without your father there. Ned didn't meet Robb until he was nearly a year old. You were the first newborn he held in his arms."

"I know," she said quietly.

"I'm not saying that she loved Robb more than the rest of you but…there was a special bond she felt with him because he was all hers for so long. I wasn't allowed to see Cat after Robb was…slaughtered in front of her. But I saw what they did to him and…she was quite traumatized by it. I expect that is why she is having a difficult time with his death. She needs to blame someone and she blames Jaime. She blames all the Lannisters."

_And me as well, it appears_, Sansa thought. "I'm a Lannister, uncle."

"I didn't mean you. Cat loves you."

She and Edmure sat in silence listening to Roslin scream in pain until finally the sounds of a baby crying filled the air. Sansa looked at her uncle in excitement. He smiled at her and she could see that he was emotional about the birth of his child. The door opened and Sansa met her mother's gaze. She was visibly startled to see Sansa sitting there beside Edmure. They had not spoken in weeks, not since Sansa had ordered her mother's guards to return her to her chambers.

She saw her mother's eyes flick to her hugely swollen belly – recognizing that the child would be coming any day. Lady Catelyn soon recovered and turned her attention to Edmure. "You have a daughter. And both she and Roslin are perfectly healthy. You can go in now, and meet her."

Sansa smiled to herself. _It seems Roslin's prayers for a girl were granted._

Edmure all but ran toward the door, but stopped abruptly, turning to Sansa. "I'm sure she'd like to see you, Sansa. Roslin likes you very much."

Sansa met her mother's eyes and struggled to her feet, as her guard approached and took her arm to help her. "I'll return later to see Roslin and the babe. Congratulations, uncle. I'm certain she's very beautiful." Sansa looked at her mother once more before allowing her guards to escort her from Lady Roslin's bedchamber.

…

Sansa hesitated outside the entrance to the prison cells where Jaime was holding the Northerners that had been taken captive at the Red Wedding. Something had compelled her to order her guards to escort her down there. Perhaps it was seeing that her mother had accepted Roslin and Edmure's marriage - at least enough to assist her in her childbirth – but would not accept Sansa's marriage to Jaime. If her own mother would not accept her now that she was married to Jaime, she knew that the Northern Lords could prove even more difficult to win over.

Sansa knew, if any of her children were ever to hold Winterfell, the seat of the North, Sansa would first need to win the loyalty of the Northern lords. She and Jaime had spoken of it before, and she knew he was right that they wouldn't bend the knee just because she was Ned Stark's daughter. She would have to show them that she truly was a Stark. She would have to show them that she was still a Northerner and that she belonged in the North. Winterfell was her birthright, but she would have to show them that she was worthy of it.

Her child would be born soon, and Sansa felt a pressing need to address the men whose loyalty was necessary to rebuild Winterfell.

"Are you certain you want to do this, Lady Lannister? We can take you back to your chamber. Lord Lannister would probably prefer that," one of her guards murmured, with worry.

"I'll be fine," she said, taking a deep breath and standing tall, forcing any expression of nervousness from her face. She strode into the dungeons and, as she remained hidden, looked at the cells ahead of her. She could see that Jaime was treating them well, though they were still prisoners. The men were housed in several large ccells. They had been provided bedrolls and furs to sleep on, and firepits to keep warm. She knew Jaime was treating them better than they had treated him when he was their prisoner at Riverrun. And she knew he was treating them well for her sake.

She recognized some of the faces from feasts at Winterfell, though she did not know many names. The most recognizable to her was Greatjon Umber, who had traveled to Winterfell quite often. She had noticed him when she was a little girl because his loud, gregarious manner was so different in comparison to the icy reserve of her father.

She rested her hand on her belly, and reminded herself that she was doing this for her child. Sansa held her head high and walked into the dungeon and stood in front of the cells, waiting for the Northern lords to notice her presence. It didn't take long.

"Lady Lannister," the Greatjon murmured, causing the others to fall silent. "What brings you to your husband's dungeons?"

"I wished to see how all of you were being treated. Now that Robb is…gone…I am Lady of Winterfell and your welfare is my concern."

"You are Lady of the Rock," one of the lords she didn't know said, with an accusatory tone.

"I am," Sansa said quietly, forcing her voice not to shake. "But I am also Lady of Winterfell. For now."

"I see the Kingslayer's put a lion in your belly."

Sansa forced herself to stay calm. "The child I carry is a wolf as well. You all swore fealty to my brother Robb. You named him your King. I don't ask that. I only ask that you not deny my children their birthright. That you help me, when the time comes, to rebuild the North."

"The North will never bend the knee to the Kingslayer's son, my lady."

Sansa felt her blood heat as they continued calling Jaime "Kingslayer." She began quietly. "I did not know, that you all were so fond of Aerys Targaryen. He murdered your liege lord. My grandfather, Rickard Stark. And my Uncle Brandon. I should think you would all be grateful that my lord husband put him down before he could murder anymore innocents."

"Lady Sansa –"

"Jaime Lannister may be my husband, but I will always be a Stark."

Sansa began to feel nervous. She worried that she was messing this up, and turned her eyes away from the Lords, glancing to where her guards waited. Instead, she met Jaime's eyes. He was leaning in the doorway, watching her. He smiled and nodded in approval for her to continue. His presence – his support of her actions – gave her the strength to turn back to the Lords.

"Does your husband know you're here, my lady?"

"My lord husband does not keep me locked away as a prisoner, Lord Umber."

"Why are you here?" Lord Umber asked. "What do you want of us?"

"Jaime tells me that you agreed to return to the North, when the war is over, to help rebuild Winterfell. Do you plan to uphold your agreement?"

"Are you calling us oathbreakers?"

"No. But I hear your grumblings…sneering that I am a Lannister and that my child is a lion cub. I suppose I'm here to see if who I have married has made you forget who my father was. My husband could have left you to rot at the Twins, but he did not."

"Aye, because he wants Winterfell for his own son."

"His second son…_my_ second son…will inherit Winterfell. It will be his birthright. Even though he will be Jaime Lannister's son."

"What do you expect of us? Your husband is an oathbreaker. He committed treason."

"Didn't King Robert as well? He overthrew the king, with my father's help. Is that not treason?"

"They did it for your Aunt Lyanna. To avenge the death of your uncle and grandfather."

"I see. Did you ever wonder, if perhaps…Jaime had just as good of a reason for his betrayal of the king?" The men were silent after that comment. "I can't speak to the past, but I can tell you that if weren't for Jaime, there would not be any Starks left to rule Winterfell. I know I would not have survived being a hostage in King's Landing if it weren't for him. And I expect Arya would have been killed by the Queen, had Jaime not concealed her presence here." She could see the surprise of the men in the cells before her to hear that Jaime had chosen to protect Arya in defiance of Cersei. "This is a time of war. And that means…forming alliances you may not ordinarily form."

Sansa met their eyes. "You asked what I want from you and I want your loyalty. I want your oath. I remember when…I heard of my brother Robb's death. When I was told of the Red Wedding. They did not just kill my brother…Walder Frey sought to kill the North. As did the Ironborn. They need to learn that the North Remembers. They need to learn that the North is wild and untamed and they cannot kill it. They need to learn that, while they fear Winter, we thrive in it. Winter is coming. It will be here any day. And when it is safe to travel to Winterfell I will need your help. If they succeed in dividing us. If the lords of the North are in rebellion against the Lord of Winterfell…they will defeat us. They will win." Sansa took a deep breath. "I'm here to ask you for your loyalty, as your Lady of Winterfell."

She glanced over at Jaime again and saw that he was proud of her. "Well done," he mouthed, so they would not hear.

She looked at the lords expectantly. "I'll help you, Lady Sansa," Lord Umber said, falling to one knee. "I'll help you rebuild the North, and get your revenge on the Freys and the Ironborn." One by one, the other northerners vowed to help her and bent the knee.

"Thank you," she murmured quietly, turning to leave them before she began to shed tears. She slowly walked out of the dungeons, her heart racing and threw herself into Jaime's arms as he closed the door to the dungeons behind her.

"I should be angry that you came down here," he said, though he was smiling. The tears of nervousness and fear that she had valiantly held back were beginning to fill her eyes as she tightly clung to Jaime, resting her cheek against his chest. He ran his hand over her hair. "I'm proud of you, Sansa. That was well done. Your father…I believe he would have been proud of you as well."

"Do you think so?"

"I do, sweet girl."

"I could not have…I could have said all that, were it not for you," she whispered, looking up at him. "I could not even have faced them were it not for you." Sansa had always been far too shy and far too proper to ever challenge anyone. And Joffrey and Cersei's brutality had made her even more meek and afraid. Jaime had made her feel safe and he had given her confidence. She could never thank him enough.

She felt him kiss the top of her head as she closed her eyes and let him hold her. _I'll see Winterfell again,_ she thought. _They'll help me rebuild it. The northerners and Jaime. Once day, I'll go home again. I'll return to the north with my husband and our children._

….

_To answer some of the questions posed in your reviews…yes, Sansa will give birth soon (in a couple chapters), and I expect we will see Jon Snow down the line (haven't actually written that far, but he's in the plan). Thank you so much for all of the reviews…over 400! Amazing. As always, I want to hear your thoughts and I've tried to incorporate those comments/requests that I could without drastically altering my plan for the story._

_Next Chapter: Sansa and Jaime try to induce her labor…_


	45. Chapter 45

Chapter 45

Sansa knocked softly on the door to Roslin's bedchamber. Her guards had informed her that Edmure was dining downstairs with Arya and her mother, and Sansa took the opportunity to visit Roslin when she knew she would be alone. Her guards waited for her outside when Roslin bid her to enter.

Roslin was sitting up in bed, holding a tiny bundle in her arms. She smiled when Sansa slipped into the room, quickly closing the door behind her. Sansa took Roslin's hand as she lowered herself into the chair beside the bed. "How are you feeling?" she whispered, smiling at the sleeping infant in her friend's arms.

"I'm all right. Tired, though I'm glad she's finally here."

Sansa looked at Roslin nervously. "Did it hurt?"

She hesitated to answer and Sansa knew that meant it had. "You'll be all right, Sansa. I got through it." She looked down at the bundle in her arms. "And she was well worth any pain. Would you like to hold her?"

Sansa nodded, carefully taking the sleeping infant from Roslin's arms, and settling back in her chair. "She's so pretty," Sansa whispered. She had light brown hair like Roslin, as well as her delicate features, though she saw a resemblance to Edmure as well in the babe's face.

"She has blue eyes like you…and like Edmure," Roslin volunteered as Sansa gently ran her fingers over the infant's hair.

"I saw that my mother…was with you for the birth. So you wouldn't be alone," Sansa said quietly, keeping her eyes on the sleeping babe in her arms.

"You should ask her to be with you, when the time comes," Roslin said. "I know that you want her to be there. I'm certain she would not refuse you."

Sansa shook her head. "We argued the last time we spoke…she hates Jaime. I'm sure she'll hate his child as well," she whispered sadly.

"I'm sure you're wrong, Sansa. Lady Catelyn will see, in time, that there is more to Ser Jaime that what she believes. I have told her how kind he was to me and…Arya is very fond of him. She talks about him all the time. About what he's teaching her and about his own practices with his knights and soldiers."

Sansa smiled as she continued to look at the babe in her arms. "Jaime's very patient with Arya. He seems to understand her. He's going to be a good father. I hope I'm as good at being a mother." She looked over at Roslin. "Are you ever afraid? Are you ever afraid that you won't be good at being a mother?"

She nodded as Sansa handed the infant back to her. "I think that's how we're supposed to feel. But I know you will be a good mother." Sansa nodded, though she wasn't sure she believed it.

…

As Sansa walked back to the section of the castle she shared with Jaime, Arya was careening down the halls and nearly ran right into her. She refrained from lecturing Arya about running around like a wildling. She'd done it often enough to no avail. It seemed to her that Arya ran around faster in this castle than she ever had at Winterfell.

"Where are you off to?" Sansa asked, sighing inwardly at Arya's breeches. She knew Jaime was the one who had given them to her. _He's going to spoil our child rotten, I know it._

"I'm…I'm just going to see my friend."

"Which friend?" Surely she's not going down the forge. "Gendry?"

"Maybe," she said quietly.

"Jaime allows you down there?" Arya looked down at her feet, and Sansa huffed. "Sometimes I fear this child will be as wild as you are."

"When will the baby be here?" she asked, looking at Sansa's enormous belly.

"I don't know. Soon I hope." The babe was kicking and Sansa pressed her hand against her belly. "The little one is just as anxious to meet you, it seems," she said smiling.

"I want to feel," Arya said, placing her hand on Sansa's belly. Sansa covered her sister's hand with her own and moved it to the right place.

"Do you feel that?"

Arya nodded. "If it's a girl, will you let Jaime teach her to fight, like he teaches me?" Sansa saw her mother walking up the stairs towards them. "It's kicking hard," Arya remarked, not noticing their mother. "Does it hurt?"

Sansa shook her head. "No. It doesn't hurt. And no, if it's a girl, Jaime is not going to teach her to fight."

"Why not? She might have his talent with a sword," she said, moving her hand over Sansa's belly. Arya turned her head when she sensed her mother behind her. "I hope the baby comes soon."

"I'm certain your sister hopes for it more than you do," Catelyn said, resting her hands on Arya's shoulders. Sansa sensed her guards moving closer, no doubt following Jaime's orders to ensure that her mother didn't upset her. "I imagine it's getting to be uncomfortable?"

Sansa nodded, hesitant to meet her mother's eyes. "My back and feet are sore most evenings. The midwife…she gave me a book about pregnancy. I've been reading about different ways to induce labor."

She saw her mother genuinely smile. "I don't know that those things actually work…the babe will come when it's ready. Enjoy these last moments before you become a mother…your life…your life will change forever when that little one is placed in your arms."

Sansa heard sadness in her mother's voice, which gave Sansa the courage to finally meet her mother's eyes. For a moment, Sansa thought they would be able to speak about the babe, but something shifted, and Lady Catelyn looked down at Arya. "You should get to bed, Arya. You've been running around since early this morning." Sansa watched as her mother took her little sister's hand, and began walking toward their suite of rooms. "You should get some rest as well, Sansa. There won't be much time for it, soon."

Sansa watched as her mother walked away from her, dragging Arya along beside her. Her little sister turned and shouted goodbye to her and Sansa waved at her before turning towards her own rooms.

…

Sansa stood looking out the windows of her bedchamber. For the past two months, there had merely been snow flurries out her window, but she saw that the snow was beginning to stick. _Winter is Coming. _She could hear her father's voice in her head, saying their words. _ I miss you, Father._

She shifted uncomfortably, rubbing her hand against the small of her back. Sansa wished she were holding her baby in her arms tonight as Roslin was. She was tired of being pregnant and her back ached if she stood – or sat – for too long.

She felt Jaime's hand move hers out of the way as he began to press against the small of her back to alleviate her pain. She smiled, moving her head to the side as he kissed her neck. "Let me help you with that," he murmured against her neck. "I've had plenty of aching muscles over the years from wearing a heavy suit of armor for hours. I've learned many ways to alleviate the pain."

Sansa sighed as Jaime gently but firmly pressed against her lower back. "I feel like this baby's never going to come." She sighed again in pleasure. "Have you seen Roslin and Edmure's baby?"

"No."

Sansa smiled. "She's so small and pretty. They've named her Bethany…after Roslin's mother." She leaned against Jaime, pulling his right wrist so his arm was wrapped around her. "My mother…my mother was with Roslin when the babe came…so she wouldn't be alone. I always thought that, when I had children, my mother would be there with me. I suppose a lot of things are not the way I thought they would be." She turned and wrapped her arms around his waist. "Though…it's not all bad," she said with a smile.

"I never expected to have this life, either. Though I wouldn't trade it for another."

"I wouldn't either." She burrowed against him, seeking physical comfort.

"Are you still feeling sore?" She nodded against him. He kissed the top of her head before moving away from her. "Take off your clothes." She turned and looked at him with a raised eyebrow, watching as he went into the bathing room and returned with a bottle of oil, that he placed beside the bed. He smiled when he saw her expression. "This will help with your aches and pains once I rub it into your skin. It will warm your skin, and relax your muscles."

She could see from the glimmer in his eye that there was more that he wanted to say. "I looked through that book your midwife gave you. You had marked a page about inducing childbirth and…from what I read, it appears there's only one thing left on the list you haven't tried."

Sansa froze, horrified, knowing what he was referring to. She had tried walking up and down the hallways of the castle for hours; she had taken long hot baths and she had eaten copious amounts of Dornish spices; the latter of which only sent her diving for a pitcher of water as she coughed and sneezed violently, much to Jaime's amusement. She had even sat one night, frustrated, and begged the child inside her to come out.

"_Your_ book," he began mischievously, "says making love could help you go into labor. I've been waiting for you to mention it for the past few days. It seems the most worthwhile option to me, of those listed."

She felt her face heat and knew she was red as a pomegranate, much to Jaime's amusement. "I didn't think…I'm so big…you couldn't possibly want to…"

"Take off your clothes and get on the bed. I'll rub your back for a while and then…we'll see what we can do to get our baby here."

She slowly began removing her clothes. "Will you help me?" Sansa felt Jaime's hands pulling them away as well, until she stood before him naked as her nameday. He helped her curl up on her side on the bed. Jaime took off his boots before joining her on the bed. She waited for him to touch her, but he simply sat there, his eyes roaming over her nude body. She began to blush under his scrutiny.

"You're so beautiful," he murmured. "I never want to forget what you look like…your belly swollen with our child." He softly kissed her belly before climbing over her to stretch out behind her body. She giggled as he poured a bit of the oil on her body. His warm hand slid over her back, gliding over her skin as the oil warmed against their skin, and Jaime began to work the knots in her shoulders. She couldn't hold back a soft moan of pleasure. "I'm not being too rough, am I?"

She shook her head. "That feels perfect. It feels…so good." Jaime had been so careful and gentle with her lately, worried that he might hurt her or the babe inside her. She moved her neck out of the way as he applied pressure to one shoulder and then the other. She smiled as he kissed her cheek, sliding his hand down to the small of her back. Sansa arched her back as he carefully rubbed the oil into her skin.

She felt somewhat self-conscious, being completely naked while Jaime had all of his clothes on, but his touch felt so good, she forced herself not to be embarrassed. She gasped as his hand slid down to her bottom and he gave it a firm squeeze. "I couldn't resist," he murmured, leaning over and covering her mouth with his own. Sansa rested her hand on his cheek as she returned his kiss. He continued rubbing her back as he trailed kisses down the side of her neck. His hand slid to her large belly and she felt Jaime press against her back, his hardness evident, even with his clothes on. She pressed back against him as he trailed his hand up her body, gently massaging her sensitive breasts.

Jaime was breathing heavily against her neck as he pressed against her bottom and moved his hand down to her thighs. She turned her head and kissed him, surprised he still wanted her sexually when she was so big. "Are you up to it?" he asked with a wicked smile, his hand now firmly between her thighs. "In the interests of inducing your labor only, of course. Nothing wanton or untoward intended." She heard herself whimper as Jaime stroked her pleasure spot. Jaime chuckled against her neck. "I'll take that as a yes."

She felt his warmth leave her as she heard the sounds of him removing his clothes. Her breath caught as Jaime's naked body pressed against her back. She felt his mouth moving down her spine and then back up again. Jaime gently urged her onto her hands and knees and Sansa felt her face heat at the scandalous position Jaime was putting her in. He'd talked her into letting him take her this way a few times before she was pregnant. And Jaime had been almost delighted to discover that this was the easiest way to be intimate while she was with child. She usually gave in to his wishes, and it was pleasurable, though she'd die if anyone knew they'd been together in such an animalistic way.

Jaime slid a pillow under her chest before moving behind her. "Are you comfortable?" he asked, his hand moving over her breasts and bottom even as she felt his hardness pressing against her.

"As comfortable as possible in this condition."

He curved his body over hers, kissing her neck, and nuzzling against her, his hands lightly trailing over her breasts, and back to her hips. Sansa moaned as she felt him slowly enter her. She closed her eyes, concentrating on the feel of Jaime inside her.

"I love you, Jaime," she murmured as she sighed in pleasure. She could hear him quietly groaning with each thrust of his hips.

"You know I love you, too, sweet girl," he gasped out between thrusts. He reached between her thighs, stroking her softly, until she gasped his name as waves of pleasure coursed over her. She heard him moan his own release soon after.

He gripped her hip for a few moments as he exhaled heavily, and then ran his hand over her bottom. Sansa rolled onto her side and looked up at her beautiful, golden husband. He smiled at her expression and stretched out beside her, kissing her forehead and running his hand over her hair. Sansa touched his chest, enjoying the feel of his hard muscles beneath her hand.

"Do you think that did the trick?" he asked with a wicked smile. "If not, we can give it another go in a few minutes. Solely for your comfort," he assured her.

She rolled her eyes at him. "I think we should give it overnight to see if the babe comes." She crept closer to Jaime, resting her head against his chest. "Do you think…do you think that I'll be good at it?"

"Good at what?"

"Being a mother? I'm afraid I'll do something wrong and…" Her eyes filled with tears and she couldn't continue.

"Sansa," he whispered, holding her against him. "You might make mistakes, at first but…it will be all right. You're very gentle, and very patient. And you'll love our baby. You already do." She nodded against him. "You're not alone Sansa. We'll raise this child together. I promise you. I've known for a long time that you were meant to be a mother. You will be a wonderful mother that any child would be lucky to have."

She knew that she was beginning to feel nervous about motherhood because her baby was so close to being born. She hoped that Jaime was right – that she would do a good job with their baby. Sansa kissed his chest before she closed her eyes.

"Good night, sweet girl."

"Good night, Jaime."

….

The next morning, Sansa sat in front of the fire, drying her hair. She thought about Jaime's words to her the night before. She did love their babe. Even though she'd not even met it yet. She didn't think that Jaime would lie to her, so he must truly believe that she will do well mothering their babe. _ I hope he's right._

She felt what she thought was a sharp kick – not like any she had felt before – and rested her hand on her belly. It didn't stop, becoming a dull, throbbing pain low in her stomach. Sansa dropped the brush she'd been using on her hair and put both hands on her belly, breathing deeply as the pain continued.

"Sansa?" She felt Jaime next to her, wrapping a towel around his waist before he rested his hand on her back. "Are you all right?"

She looked up at him in fear. "I think the babe's coming."

….

_Thanks to all of you for reading and commenting. It's difficult writing based on a series of books that readers are SO passionate about, especially when there is a variation from cannon. It is nice to know that so many of you appreciate the time spent writing and are enjoying the story. Thank you!_

_What happens in the next chapter should be fairly obvious…Sansa gives birth._


	46. Chapter 46

_Thank you so much for all of the reviews – it's amazing to see how many of you are enjoying the story. Here's the one many of you have been waiting for!_

…_._

Chapter 46

"I think the babe's coming."

Jaime could see the fear in Sansa's eyes as she gripped one of the large armchairs in front of the fireplace, leaning against it as she was breathing heavily in pain. He quickly moved toward her and put his hands on her shoulders. "Just breathe, sweet girl. The pain will pass." He knew when her labor pain had passed, because she relaxed and sat down in the chair. "Are you all right?"

She nodded, her hands running over her belly. "It doesn't hurt anymore. I'm scared," she whispered as she looked up at him, her blue eyes bright.

Jaime kissed her forehead. "There's nothing to fear. I'm going to send for the midwife." He smirked at her. "It appears that book of yours was accurate when it said how to bring about labor."

Her eyes widened as she grabbed his hand. "If you tell anyone that I'm in labor because we…"

"Fucked?"

She glared at him. "So help me, Jaime…"

Jaime chuckled at her anger. "It's our little secret," he said, kissing her forehead.

Jaime sent for the midwife, who came to their chambers and spoke to Sansa, waiting to see how far apart her pains were before leaving their chamber, telling him that Sansa would be in labor for some time until the babe came. She said that Sansa's pains needed to be much closer together before going to the birthing bed.

He and Sansa remained together in their chambers throughout the day as her pains slowly became more and more frequent – and more and more painful. Jaime found the best way to help her through her labor pains was to hold her and speak low in her ear, assuring her that he loved her and that she was all right. She was bearing it far better than he had anticipated. He was glad that she wasn't screaming in pain – he wasn't sure _he_ could bear it. It was difficult enough to know she was in pain and that he could not make it go away.

Early in the evening, Sansa's labor pains began to come faster and harder. He heard her gasp, and saw that she was having another pain. It had only been a few minutes since the last contraction. Jaime knelt before her, running his hand over her thigh. Sansa leaned forward and wrapped her arms around his neck, resting her head on his shoulder and holding him tightly as the pain gripped her. _Perhaps it's time to send for the midwife again_, Jaime thought, as he considered how little time had passed between her pains.

Jaime heard the door to their chamber open and saw Arya creep in as Sansa's pain subsided. "Arya, will you stay with your sister for a few minutes? I'm going to send for the midwife."

Arya nodded, sitting in the other chair before the fire, and taking Sansa's hand, her eyes wide with curiosity as she looked at her sister. "Does it hurt?" he heard her whisper as he stepped into the hall .

Jaime walked to the end of the hallway, where Sansa's guards waited. "Bring the midwife here. Now." He felt both nervous and excited that his child would be born soon. He worried for Sansa – that something would go wrong when she birthed the babe. Jaime shook his head and took a deep breath before quickly returning to his wife.

"Does mother know that…the baby is coming?" He sighed at Sansa's hesitant words to her sister as he re-entered their bedchamber. _She must wish that her mother would come to help her, as she helped Lady Roslin during her birth._

"I told her," Arya replied.

"What did she say?"

He saw Arya shrug. "She didn't say anything. I told her she could come here with me but…" Arya's voice trailed off and he saw Sansa nod in understanding, her hurt at her mother's indifference apparent to him. Jaime leaned against Sansa's chair, reaching out to stroke her hair.

"When will the baby be here?" Arya asked, looking up at him.

"I hope sometime tonight. I don't believe it will be too much longer." Jaime looked down at Sansa and could see she was still fearful and uncertain, though she and Arya chatted for a few minutes, awaiting the arrival of the midwife, which seemed to distract her from the pain.

Lady Alys arrived with Pia and the midwife in tow as another pain struck Sansa. She gripped Jaime tightly, pulling him to her and burying her face against his neck. She'd been quiet through most of her labor, but he could see this pain was harsher than the others. Jaime held her, running his hand over her hair and murmuring loving words in her ear. He felt tears on his neck, as Sansa began to weep from the pain. Jaime glanced over her shoulder and saw Arya's eyes grow wide as saucers.

"Is the pain too much to bear?" he whispered in Sansa's ear. "What can I do?"

"I'm scared, Jaime." She clung to him, crying against his neck.

"Would you like your mother here with you?" he whispered, stroking her hair. She nodded against him miserably, releasing her grip on his shoulders as her pain subsided. He kissed the top of her head and walked over to Arya. "Bring your mother here. Now. I don't care if she wants to or not. Have the guards help you drag her here if necessary, do you understand?"

Arya nodded and ran from the room.

"Lord Lannister, you can wait outside now. We will notify you when the babe has arrived," the midwife said swiftly as she began to prepare to deliver the baby.

Sansa looked at him in terror and clutched his hand so hard she nearly cut off the circulation. "I'm not going anywhere, I'm afraid," Jaime said matter-of-factly.

The midwife looked appropriately scandalized. "My lord, it's most improper. A man is terrible luck in a birthing chamber."

"Jaime, she'll be fine. We'll take good care of her," Lady Alys assured him.

"I'm not leaving my wife."

He could see that the midwife disapproved. He also knew that she couldn't very well throw him out of the room, since he was Lord of Casterly Rock. She bit her tongue and worked with Pia to remove the bedclothes from Sansa's bed, and replace them with a large pile of clean sheets and blankets, which Jaime knew would soon be stained with Sansa's blood.

The midwife sent Pia over to help Sansa undress. Jaime helped the handmaiden remove Sansa's clothes and help her onto the birthing bed as the ladies draped clean white sheets over her legs and another to cover her breasts and belly. He couldn't help feeling a small tremor of fear, remembering his mother's death in this very room birthing Tyrion. His mother's death was why Jaime had no intention of leaving his wife. _Sansa won't die_. _She's young and healthy. She won't die._

He could feel the disapproval of the women in the room as he joined Sansa in the birthing bed, climbing behind her and gently pulling her to rest her back against his chest. Jaime kissed her temple. "It's going to be all right, Sansa." He felt her tense as the midwife lifted the sheets to have a look between her thighs. Jaime slid his hands beneath the sheets to rub her belly comfortingly as her hands gripped his thighs, on either side of her.

Another contraction gripped Sansa and he felt her grip on him tighten as she gasped at the pain. Jaime kissed her, trying to distract her from the pain. "You are so strong, sweet girl. So brave. Go ahead and scream if you want. It might help to let out the pain."

Sansa didn't scream, but she began moaning and sobbing, fighting back tears as she twisted to wrap her arms around him and cry against his neck. He held her tightly, stroking her back and murmuring in her ear that he loved her. Jaime glanced up as the door opened and Lady Stark hesitantly entered, with Arya peeking out from behind her skirts.

"Arya, wait outside. The birthing chamber is no place for a child," Lady Stark said firmly. Arya looked once more at Jaime and Sansa before retreating outside the bedchamber. "You should wait with her," she said, addressing Jaime. "You should not be in here. It's not proper. You'll be told when the babe is born."

"No," Sansa said mournfully, gripping his arm so hard it would likely bruise. "Please don't make him leave me." She started crying again looking at her mother desperately. He could see that Lady Stark was prepared to relent in the face of her daughter's panicked tears, though she wasn't happy about it.

"Lady Stark, perhaps you and Lady Alys could hold Lady Lannister's legs, when it comes time to push. It won't be too long, now," the midwife murmured, peering between Sansa's thighs.

"Sansa," Jaime said quietly in her ear, "Look straight ahead, out the windows. Can you see the snow falling against the night sky?" She nodded. "Does that remind you of home, my sweet?"

"Yes," she said weakly.

"Try not to think about the pain…don't be afraid. Just listen to my voice and watch the snow fall, Sansa. You're going to get through this, sweet girl. I won't allow anything to happen to you. No one here will allow any harm to come to you." Sansa leaned back against him and began to relax her grip on him, breathing deeply and staring out at the snow. He saw that Lady Stark was listening to him and saw the calming effect he had on her daughter.

Another contraction came and Sansa let out a shuddering sob that echoed throughout the bedchamber and just about made Jaime's heart stop. "The babe is ready to come," the midwife said. "Lady Lannister, it's time for you to push." Lady Alys and Lady Stark sat on either side of Sansa, holding her legs as Pia wiped her brow with a cold cloth.

Sansa began to cry when the next contraction started. Jaime kissed her temple and murmured encouraging words in her ear. He saw Sansa reach for her mother and was relieved when Lady Stark took Sansa's outstretched hand in her own. "It'll be all right, Sansa. You're doing well," she said softly.

"Lady Lannister, Push," the midwife told her. Sansa sobbed as she did as the midwife asked. "Harder. _Harder_."

"Sansa, scream if it helps," Jaime told her, wincing as her grip on his thigh tightened. She did, so loud it made Jaime shudder in fear. His mother had screamed that way. For hours and hours before she died. Pia wiped Sansa's brow again, and Jaime wrapped his arm around his wife's waist as she cried out. "I love you, sweet girl," he whispered in her ear. "You're going to be just fine," he whispered, more to himself than to her.

Sansa choked back another scream. "That's it," the midwife said. "Another push, now. I see the head." She gave another shriek and began to pant. Sansa gasped as the babe's wails filled the room.

"It's girl," Lady Stark said, taking the crying infant from the midwife to clean her up as Jaime held Sansa and kissed her cheek, overcome with relief that the child was born and Sansa was unharmed. Sansa was crying as she watched her mother carry the babe to the washbasin.

The midwife glanced up at Jaime. "Lord Lannister, would you mind moving from the bed to allow me to tend to your wife?"

"Is something wrong?" he asked in alarm.

"No, my lord. If you'll allow me to clean up the blood and make certain she's not suffered an injury?"

Sansa nodded, tears still streaming from her eyes, turning to look at Jaime. "I'm all right. Go…Jaime, go see the baby. I want you to see her."

Jaime kissed her sweaty brow before slipping out from behind her, laying her back on the bed, and approaching Lady Stark, who was holding the babe as Pia washed her with a warm cloth. He was surprised to see unshed tears in Lady Stark's eyes. "She looks just like Sansa did…when she was born," Lady Stark whispered, as they finished washing the babe. He watched as Lady Stark wrapped her in one of the soft blankets Sansa had made, running her fingers over the meticulously stitched direwolf and lion.

He leaned in to get a close look at the newborn, and saw wisps of red hair on her head, and Sansa's features on her tiny red face. She opened her eyes and looked toward Jaime, and it was as if he was looking in the mirror as he saw the green orbs glittering back at him.

"I suppose there's no mistaking who fathered her," Lady Stark said stiffly as she held her grandchild. She glanced toward Sansa and saw that the midwife and Lady Alys were not quite finished with her. She carried the infant toward Sansa, waiting until she was able to hold her. Sansa glanced up at her mother, smiling faintly at the infant in her arms. "Give her to Jaime, mother. Please. He should hold his daughter."

With obvious difficulty, Lady Catelyn placed the infant who looked so much like one of her own in his arms, before assisting the midwife and Lady Alys with cleaning Sansa up and making sure she was not bleeding or hurt. He was faintly aware of Sansa thanking her mother for being with her, and of Lady Stark brushing her hand over Sansa's hair, comfortingly, and telling her how beautiful the baby was.

Jaime gazed at the infant in his arms, marveling at her eyes, which were just like his. And like his mother's. Other than the eyes, every bit of her was Sansa. He hoped she had Sansa's sweetness and good temper. Jaime gently stroked the soft red hair on his infant daughter's head. _My daughter. _Her little hands were clenching and unclenching, looking for something to grasp, and Jaime offered her his pinkie, which she immediately tightened her tiny fist around. He felt his eyes grow hot with tears. He couldn't believe something so perfect – so innocent and so pure - had come from him. He couldn't believe this perfect little girl belonged to him.

Jaime had never told Sansa, but he had worried that he wouldn't be able to love their babe. He feared that the reason he didn't feel fatherly toward Joffrey, Myrcella and Tommen wasn't because of Cersei or her rules about the children, but because something was wrong with him. He was afraid that he was incapable of loving a child as a father should. As he held his daughter to his chest, Jaime felt an immediate connection with the little creature. He felt as fiercely protective of her as he did of her mother. Jaime gently kissed her forehead as he silently promised to protect her always.

"Lord Lannister," the midwife said quietly, beckoning him over. "Your lady wife is in perfect health. No complications."

"Thank you," he whispered, taking the child to Sansa. Jaime sat beside her on the bed. He was about to relinquish the infant to her when Sansa shook her head and curled up against him, pulling open the blanket covering the baby. He saw her eyes light up as she gazed at their little one. Sansa began running her fingers lightly over the infant's arms and legs, touching her fingers and toes and then gently stroking the soft red hair on the babe's head.

"She's perfect," Sansa whispered, as she leaned her head against Jaime's chest. He held the infant securely in his good arm, and wrapped the arm with the golden hand around Sansa as she leaned against his chest, continuing to examine their baby. "She has your eyes," she said, looking up at Jaime with tears in her eyes.

"And she has your everything else." He stroked Sansa's back with the golden hand as she marveled over their infant. The child had a firm grip on one of Sansa's fingers. Sansa looked up at Jaime and smiled. He leaned down and softly kissed her. "I love you," he whispered. "I love both my girls." He glanced up and met Lady Catelyn's eyes. She quickly looked away, but he could see that she was affected by seeing he and Sansa together with their newborn.

"I love you, Jaime" Sansa whispered, looking back down at the babe who was nuzzling her head against his chest and sucking on Sansa's finger.

"Looks like she's hungry," he said quietly.

Sansa seemed a bit uncertain about what she was to do, glancing over at her mother for help. Lady Catelyn and the midwife slowly approached her. "Allow me to help you, Lady Lannister."

Jaime stood as they helped Sansa into a comfortable position to nurse the babe. Lady Alys patted his arm and smiled down at the babe. "She's beautiful, Jaime. Your parents would be very proud. Send a servant for me if you need anything during the night. Don't hesitate."

"Thank you," he said as she left, the child beginning to squirm in his arms.

"Lord Lannister, the babe?"

He looked at the bed and saw that they had propped Sansa up with pillows all around her and stripped her bare to the waist. He passed the infant to the midwife, who in turn handed her to Sansa. He could see the wonder on his little wife's face as her mother showed her how to hold the child as it nursed. Sansa gasped slightly as the baby latched onto her nipple and began to suckle.

Jaime couldn't take his eyes off Sansa as she nursed their child, though he was faintly aware of the midwife leaving them. He sat down on the bed and gently stroked the babe's cheek as she suckled greedily. "It sounds as if she is purring," Sansa said in a quiet, delighted voice. "Like a little kitten."

"Like a little lioness." He smiled as he watched his daughter suckle at Sansa's breast. _My daughter. _He gently ran his hand over the infant's head.

"Mother," Sansa said quietly, and Jaime turned and saw that Lady Catelyn was leaving the bedchamber.

"The two of you should have some time alone with your babe," she said quietly, reaching for the door.

"You don't have to leave," Jaime said seriously.

"You must be exhausted, Sansa. I'm glad everyone is healthy," she murmured, standing and watching her daughter nurse her newborn for a long moment before leaving. He saw Arya jump up as Lady Catelyn opened the door. "It's a little girl," he heard Lady Catelyn murmur as she took Arya's hand. "It's late. You can meet her in the morning," she said, as the door closed.

Jaime moved some of the pillows out of the way and sat beside Sansa, wrapping his arm around her when she leaned against him. Sansa stretched her neck up to meet his lips, kissing him several times and meeting his eyes, her smile lighting up her whole face. He heard little squeaks coming from the infant, and helped Sansa move her to her other breast, smiling as the babe resumed her little purring sounds.

"She's very hungry, isn't she?" Sansa asked as she looked back down at the child.

Jaime smirked. "She likes your teats almost as much as I do."

Sansa scowled at him. "Don't say such things in front of her."

"She doesn't understand the words, my sweet."

"She's so tiny," Sansa marveled, gently running her fingers over the infant's little body. "You're not disappointed are you? That it's a girl and not a boy?"

Jaime shook his head, kissing Sansa's cheek. "She is perfect…and I could never be disappointed in a tiny little miniature of you to call my own."

Sansa giggled, resting her head against his shoulder. "What should we call her?"

"What would you like to call her? I know you've thought on it quite a lot. I've seen your lists of names."

"I thought…perhaps we could call her Julianna," she said shyly, as if he might deny her.

"Is that from one of your songs?"

Sansa shook her head. "No. I just think it's pretty. It's not really Northern or Southern. And it sounds like…Joanna, for your mother and like…Lyanna…put together," she said whispered. "I think my father would like that."

"Lady Julianna Lannister, it is." Sansa glanced down at the babe, who had fallen asleep, and smiled lovingly. He'd never doubted that Sansa would make a kind and loving mother, and he could see in her eyes the love she already had for their little girl.

"You should try to sleep, now, while the little one sleeps."

"You'll sleep here tonight, won't you? With me in your arms, like always?" She smiled brightly when he nodded and moved over to make room for him in the bed, careful not to disturb the sleeping infant. Once he removed his clothes and joined her in the bed, she motioned for him to lie down on his back beside her.

Jaime did as she asked and smiled softly as she carefully rested Julianna on his chest, opening the blanket a bit so the babe's skin rested against his. Jaime looked at Sansa in confusion. "They said she should touch our skin. That it would make her feel safe and warm."

He looked at the tiny little thing curled up on his chest and curled his arm with the stump around her body, so she would not roll off of him in the night. The fire was blazing, warming the entire room, so there was no need to fear the cold. Sansa curled up beside him then, resting her head on his shoulder and curling her arm protectively around the babe as well. She gently kissed his chest, and Jaime stroked his little wife's hair as he held his girls in his arms. _My sweet angels_, Jaime thought as he drifted off to sleep.

….

_I hope you liked it. I don't know why, but I always imagine Jaime having a daughter as the first child he's allowed to father. I know the past few chapters have focused more on Jaime/Sansa and everyone at Casterly Rock. We'll catch up with the rest of Westeros, and what's going on with the war for the throne soon._

_Next chapter: Arya and Catelyn visit Sansa and the baby._


	47. Chapter 47

_Thank you all for continuing to read and I appreciate all of the wonderful comments. I appreciate all of the continued support for this story._

…

Chapter 47

Sansa felt the morning sunlight against her eyelids and slowly opened her eyes. She groaned at the soreness between her thighs, reminding her that she had given birth only hours earlier.

"Are you all right? Do you need the midwife? Or the Maester?" Jaime whispered, stroking her hair. She closed her eyes briefly as he kissed her forehead, before meeting his eyes again.

"I'm all right. Just very sore but…the pain's not terrible," she whispered. Sansa looked down at the infant, curled against her breasts, asleep, and smiled softly. Little Julianna had woken them several times in the night, hungry and crying. Jaime had sat up with Sansa as she nursed Julianna and he had also insisted on holding and comforting their tiny infant himself during the night. She could see how much Jaime already loved their baby girl and wanted to help care for her.

"It's hard to believe I had any part in creating her, isn't it?" he asked, resting his hand on Sansa's hip, the infant fast asleep between them.

Sansa shook her head. "There's good in you Jaime," she whispered, touching his face. "Thank you for staying with me. And for making sure my mother was with me last night."

"It seemed you needed her."

Sansa nodded. "I was so scared." The truth was, she had been terrified. Sansa had never felt such pain or such a loss of control over her own body – not even when Joffrey was having her beaten. Jaime's presence helped, but she had always imagined that her mother would be with her when she gave birth to her children. Her mother was able to comfort her in a way no one else could. Lady Catelyn had always made her feel safe – ever since she was a little girl.

"You were quite brave, Sansa." He met her eyes. "I was scared as well."

"You were? Of what?"

"That you would suffer the same fate as my mother did. When you were screaming in pain…it was as my mother screamed. When she was birthing Tyrion. When she died." He brought her hand to his mouth. "I don't know what I would do if I lost you. Perhaps I'd become as hard as my father was." Sansa hated to think of what would happen to Jaime if they were ever parted. She saw that he needed her in his life as much as she needed him.

Sansa sat up, careful not to awaken the baby, and leaned over to kiss Jaime. He didn't hesitate to return her kiss. As Jaime's fingers trailed over her body, she realized she was wearing nothing but her smallclothes. "Jaime, will you get me one of your tunics to wear?"

He leaned back and gazed at her, his eyes roaming over her breasts. "You don't wish to receive visitors as you are? I must say, you look even lovelier than before the babe was born." She blushed, as his eyes roamed over her swollen breasts.

"Please?"

He chuckled, getting out of bed and scooping up his tunic from the floor, which he dropped over her head, kissing her cheek, before pulling on his breeches and walking to look out the window. "Looks like we got a fair bit of snow last night." He glanced back at Sansa. "Rather appropriate for the arrival of our little winter girl."

There was a soft knock at the door, and Jaime opened the door for Pia who was carrying a tray of breakfast. Sansa looked at Jaime triumphantly before leaning over the tray and selecting a piece of warm bread, layering cold meat and cheese on it – she was clearly right that they should put some clothes on. Jaime simply smirked at her in response, swiping a piece of cold meat off the tray.

"Lady Lannister, would you like my help bathing this morning?" she asked quietly.

Sansa looked at Jaime in question and he nodded. "I'll look after the babe."

Pia helped Sansa out of the bed, looking curiously at the sleeping infant. "She's very beautiful," Pia said quietly. She had been there when the babe was born, but she had not had the opportunity to speak to her lady about the babe. Sansa smiled as Pia took her arm and led her to the bathing room. Sansa nibbled on her breakfast, listening as Pia told her how lovely Julianna was and how much she admired Ser Jaime for staying with her in the birthing chamber.

Sansa felt much better after bathing, having a bite to eat and putting on a fresh dressing gown. She didn't plan to leave her chamber, but she expected Arya and Roslin, at the very least, would wish to come see Julianna. Pia had washed her hair and plaited it back to keep it out of her way while she nursed the new baby.

Sansa returned to her chamber and found that Jaime and the babe were not there. She then walked into his chamber, where they normally slept, and saw Jaime seated before the fire, holding their little one against his bare chest, softly stroking her little arms and fingers as she gazed up at him. Sansa lingered in the doorway and watched Jaime's expression as he spent time bonding with their child.

After she'd been born, Sansa had wanted to be sure that Jaime got to hold her, even before she did, remembering how he'd never been able to hold Joffrey, Myrcella or Tommen. She wanted him to feel a bond with their little girl and it was clear to her that he did.

"I promise, no one will ever harm my little lioness," she heard him murmur. _He's so in love with this baby_, Sansa thought with a smile. Who would have thought that a fierce warrior like Jaime Lannister – the man called Kingslayer – would be at the mercy of a tiny little girl? Sansa thought she'd never loved Jaime more than she did in that moment, watching him with their infant.

When Sansa had first examined Julianna the night before, she was struck by how much the infant's features looked like her own. Though, she was delighted to see Jaime's glittering eyes staring back at her from the face of her daughter. Jaime was endearingly smitten with his daughter already. She had no doubt that he loved the child as a father should.

"Sansa." She met Jaime's eyes at the sound of her name. "Come sit with us." Sansa smiled and walked over, slipping onto his lap. Jaime wrapped his arm around Sansa, as he held the infant in the crook of his arm.

She ran her fingers through Jaime's hair and tilted his chin up to kiss him. "I love seeing you with her. I know she's safe and happy, having a father to look out for her. Who loves her."

He kissed her gently. "I love you, too, sweet girl."

The baby began fussing and Sansa unlaced the front of her gown, and settled into the other chair. Jaime carefully handed Julianna to her, kneeling on the carpet before her. Sansa stroked her little hand as the babe began to suckle and Jaime remained where he was, resting his hand on Sansa's knees and watching her nurse their baby. She met Jaime's eyes, smiling at the little purring noises the babe was making and Sansa reached out to stroke Jaime's hair. In that moment, with her babe at her breast and Jaime lovingly watching, Sansa felt like everything was perfect.

There was a soft knock on the door and Jaime reluctantly left Sansa's side, opening the door to allow Arya admittance. She curiously crept to Sansa's side, looking at the babe in her sister's arms.

"She's so small," Arya whispered, as Jaime left the sisters alone and headed into the bathing room.

"I know. Isn't she perfect?" Sansa said with a soft smile as Arya leaned on the arm of Sansa's chair.

"Did you name her?" she asked, gently petting the baby's arm.

Sansa nodded. "Julianna."

"Julianna," Arya repeated. "You were screaming very loud last night," Arya said quietly. "I was afraid."

"Me, too," she whispered, looking down at the babe, who was gazing up at her with those glittering green eyes. "Do you wish to hold her?"

"Can I?"

Sansa nodded. "Sit back in the chair, there." Arya did as she was told and Sansa carefully laid the baby in her arms. Sansa laced up the front of her gown and smiled as Julianna began making little cooing noises while Arya awkwardly held her in her lap. "Mother says she looks like you did when you were a baby…but with Lannister green eyes."

"I'm glad you brought her to me last night. Did she…how did you convince her to come?"

"Mother came with me right away, when I said you were having the baby. After I told her that Jaime said you needed her."

_I did need her. _"You're an aunt now," Sansa said, smiling as she watched Arya's eyes curiously scan the baby in her arms. "Thank you, Arya."

"For what?"

"For giving Jaime a chance. I'm glad that the two of you are friends."

"He's all right," Arya whispered and Sansa giggled at her stubborn insistence on remaining indifferent to Jaime. "You know he likes you, Sansa. A lot."

Sansa smiled to herself. "I like him too. A lot. I love him."

Arya scrunched up her nose in disgust as Sansa's words. "He's better than Joffrey."

"That's not very high praise, Arya," she said smiling and gently touching her daughter's head. "It's hard to believe she was in my belly only yesterday."

"She's doesn't do much, does she?" Arya asked, watching the babe close her eyes as she drifted off to sleep.

Sansa took Julianna back in her arms, sitting in her own chair and cuddling the baby against her chest. "You'll probably find her more interesting when she gets to be a bit older."

Arya considered her niece. "I think you should let Jaime teach her be a sword-fighter."

Sansa rolled her eyes. "No. My daughter will have no need of a sword." Sansa kissed the babe's forehead, feeling peaceful and happy.

…

Sansa sat in the nursery, rocking the baby in her arms as Jaime and Arya sparred up on the practice field. Jaime had been reluctant to leave her, but Sansa had assured him she would be fine by herself for a few hours. She enjoyed the time alone with her new baby. It was still difficult for her to believe that she was a mother now.

She smiled down at her babe as she quietly hummed a song. "I love you, my sweet little girl," she whispered. "I promise…we'll not be separated. You, and your father and I will always be a family. I'll never let anyone take him from you, as my father was taken from me." She heard a soft knock on the door and looked up, surprised to see her mother standing in the doorway.

"May I come in?" she asked.

Sansa nodded, shifting the babe in her arms, curious about why her mother had come to her rooms. Her mother leaned forward a bit to look at the babe's face, smiling softly, before sitting on the sofa beside Sansa. "Did you come to see the baby?" she whispered.

"And you. How are you feeling?"

Sansa was surprised her mother had come to see her. She looked down at her daughter's face before answering her mother. "I'm well. I'm tired and…a bit sore, but I'm all right. I'm glad she's finally here. Thank you, mother…Thank you for being with me. I didn't think you would want to. After everything."

Sansa looked at her mother and saw regret in her eyes. "Sansa, I'm sorry that you felt you couldn't ask me to be with you. A girl should have her mother with her for the important moments in her life."

She nodded. "I was sorry that you weren't there when Jaime and I married…I had so many questions and fears and…I always thought you would be there the day I got married. I'm glad you were with me when Julianna was born." Sansa gently ran her finger over the babe's cheek. "Would you like to hold her?"

Lady Catelyn gently took the babe from Sansa's arms. Sansa watched her mother look at the sleeping infant, gently stroking her little hand. "I remember, like it was yesterday, what it was like to hold you in my arms. You were just as tiny…just as perfect. She looks just like you did. Even during those first few days, I had so many dreams for you…made so many plans for you in my head." She looked at Sansa. "I imagine you have already begun dreaming about her future." Sansa smiled to herself, since her mother was correct. Sansa had already promised herself that her little girl would not see the pain that she had. Her daughter would never be deprived of her father, as Sansa was now deprived of Ned Stark.

"What did you dream for me, mother?"

"I wished for you to be happily married…to a great lord. I thought, when King Robert proposed to betroth you to Joffrey, that we were doing what was right for you. We believed that you would be happy as his queen. And now, I know that…King's Landing became a nightmare for you." Sansa looked at her questioningly. "Arya told me what Joffrey did to you and…I saw the scars on your back last night." Sansa looked down in shame, hating that she would always bear the reminders of Joffrey on her body. "I had no idea you were being treated that way."

She nodded. "I know that, Mother."

"Don't ever think that Robb and I…that we didn't worry for you. Don't ever think that we didn't want you back. Robb loved you very much. I remember how excited he was when you were born. He was not yet five years old but…he insisted on holding you right away. And he sat on the bed beside me, holding you on his lap…and he promised to be a good big brother to you." Sansa felt her eyes fill with tears and looked at her mother, whose eyes were also wet.

"I miss him. I miss all of them," she whispered. "I wish father could meet her," she said, touching her baby's hand.

"Your father would be proud to see the lady you've grown into."

Sansa wiped at the tears that began to fall from her eyes and Catelyn shifted the babe and held out her free arm to Sansa who began to weep as she went into her mother's arms, crying against her as her mother rubbed her back and shoulder. The babe began to squeak as she saw Sansa's nearness. Sansa smiled gently and wiped away her tears before accepting the babe back from her mother. She cradled her in her arms, smiling at her little face.

"You're happy, aren't you?"

Sansa nodded. "Yes. I know you don't like it but…Jaime makes me very happy. And I'm…I'm happy that he's given me a new family, with him and our little girl." She looked at her mother. "He's also given me back what remains of my family…you and Arya. We wouldn't be here together, if it weren't for him." She looked down at the babe in her arms. "You see that he loves me. That he loves our baby. I know you see that."

Catelyn sighed, leaning back in her chair. "I suppose I do," she said quietly. "That doesn't mean that all is magically forgiven."

"I know that, mother, but…will you try to accept him as my husband? It would mean a lot to me if I could have both of you in my life."

"It doesn't look as if he intends to be separated from you," she said with a sigh as Sansa smiled to herself. "I don't…I don't wish to make things more difficult for you, Sansa. And I have missed you. I'm sorry that I wasn't available to you during your pregnancy." She smoothed her hand over Sansa's hair. "I would like you to feel that you can come to me as you're learning to be a mother."

"I would like that, too," Sansa whispered as her mother looked down at the babe in her arms.

"It seems just yesterday I held you in my arms and now…you're all grown up. With your own little girl in your arms." Sansa smiled, letting Julianna tightly grip her littlest finger. "He protected you? In King's Landing?"

Sansa nodded. "When Jaime came back to King's Landing he saw what Joffrey had done to me. He saw me…" Sansa hated how her voice cracked and took a deep breath. "Joffrey had stripped me naked and his guards were beating me. Jaime made them stop and…he covered me with his cloak and took me to my chamber. No one ever laid a hand on me again."

"And you love him."

Sansa looked at her mother and saw that she was staring down at her hands. It was a statement, not a question, but Sansa answered anyway. "I love him so much, mother. Not the stupid, childish way I believed I loved Joffrey. I really, truly love, Jaime."

Her mother slowly raised her eyes to Sansa's, stopping to look at the child in her arms for a moment. She simply nodded, running her hand over Sansa's hair. "He best take care of you then," she said quietly. "I'll leave you, now. I always enjoyed being alone with my babies. Perhaps we can visit again tomorrow?"

"I would like that," Sansa whispered. She kissed Sansa's forehead and gently patted the babe before slipping out of the nursery.

Sansa felt a calm overcome her as she looked down at her babe, who was nuzzling against her, looking to nurse. She unlaced her gown, leaning back in her seat as Julianna began to suckle. _Perhaps everything will be all right now. _Sansa raised her eyes heavenward, silently thanking the Gods for softening her mother's manner towards her and Jaime.

….

_The calm will come to an end in the next chapter, as Cersei takes action to get Jaime back...And, of course, Cat is not going to forgive and forget all THAT easily..._


	48. Chapter 48

_As promised, there's going to a bit more action in the next few chapters. I'll warn you - it's going be a bit dark, and there's some violence at the end of the chapter...but I think it's good for the progress of the story._

_..._

Chapter 48

Jaime leaned back in his chair, reading over the simple letter he'd written to Tommen. He knew Cersei would devour every word and had spent hours agonizing over it, all while his squire stood by the door, waiting for him to finish.

_Your Grace, King Tommen,_

_Lady Sansa Lannister has given birth to a little girl, named Julianna, who shall henceforth be heir to Casterly Rock. Both mother are child are healthy and doing well. I look forward to introducing her to your grace._

_Your Uncle, Ser Jaime Lannister  
Lord of Casterly Rock_

Jaime thought it best to keep the announcement of his daughter's birth brief and to the point, in hopes that it might escape much of Cersei's notice. Though he expected his sister would be consumed with outrage and jealousy that another woman's child was heir to the Rock. Especially since that woman was Sansa. He was again thankful that he and Sansa had left King's Landing. He did not relish the thought of Cersei being anywhere near his wife and daughter. Especially given his most recent letter from Ser Kevan.

His uncle had been serving as regent since Cersei's incarceration, and from what he could gather from his letter, Cersei was now causing difficulties for him. Her champion, someone by the name of Ser Robert Strong, had prevailed at her trial by battle, and Cersei had immediately reinstalled herself at the Red Keep, scheming to take back the Regency from Ser Kevan and the Tyrells. Ser Kevan would never say it, but Jaime sensed that Cersei was completely out of control. _She should be strengthening her alliance with them, in preparation for Stannis's next attack. Instead she alienates them all._

"May I interrupt for a moment?" Ser Addam asked from the doorway, holding several letters in his hands.

Jaime nodded, sealing the letter to Tommen and handing it to his squire so that the raven could be sent immediately. "Of course. I take it you have news of the war?"

Addam nodded, sitting opposite Jaime's desk and tossing the scrolls on the desk. For the past few days, Jaime had spent almost all of his time with Sansa and the new baby. He had turned over the daily duties of running the castle and monitoring the war to his friend.

"Stannis has retreated to the North. It appears he's stationed himself at the Wall, reworking his strategy. I have to wonder if he is attempting to convince the Brothers of the Night's Watch to join his fight."

"The Night's Watch is sworn to stay out of such matters."

"That's true. However, your Lady Wife's brother is Lord Commander. I expect Ned Stark's son might wish vengeance on those who killed his father. And his brothers."

"Aemon Targaryen stayed at the Wall during Robert's Rebellion." _After I slit his brother's throat and my father killed his heirs._ "From what Arya and Sansa have told me of the boy, he has Ned Stark's stubborn sense of honor. I'd be surprised if he entered the battle, though I suppose we should consider the possibility." He thought of the words of Sansa's house. _Winter is Coming._ He supposed winter was now here. "It will take months - if not years - for Stannis to bring his forces south, if that is what he means to do. I expect most will die of cold and famine. Most of them will never leave the North alive, given the present conditions up there."

"There's more," Ser Addam said warily. "There is a great deal of talk of the Targaryen girl. And her dragons."

Jaime raised his eyebrow. "Dragons?"

"King's Landing is dismissing it as lies but…I do not think it should be dismissed out of hand without more information."

"There haven't been any dragons for hundreds of years."

"But if it's true…you've seen Harrenhal. No matter how impenetrable the walls of the Rock are, dragon fire could melt it into the Sunset Sea."

"I'll think on it," Jaime said. He didn't give such stories much credence, but he supposed it was possible. At present, Jaime could not conceive of a way to combat the Targaryen girl if she indeed had dragons at her disposal. "I wonder if it is…cowardly for me to stay here with Sansa…with all of our soldiers. To not rejoin the war." His banishment to Casterly Rock had troubled him for some time, knowing that the war was going on. A part of him felt he should be riding North with his soldiers, to meet Stannis at the Wall.

"The Queen Regent sent you away. She sent you here. She did not want you fighting on King Tommen's behalf. And after Blackwater, if there is another sea attack, it will be here, at the Rock. It's best to have the harbor heavily manned as we do now. Your lord father always intended for you to take Lady Sansa and return to the Rock. Not to march North."

Jaime appreciated his words, though he wasn't sure he believed them. The thought of a battle at the Rock, with Sansa and his daughter inside, did not please him, though he knew they all could stay inside the Rock for years, with the stores of food Sansa had procured in preparation for the long winter. They could likely outlast any enemy.

"I don't expect there will be many battles during Winter. It will be difficult enough to keep troops alive, let alone move them, for many years, if this winter is like the others."

Jaime nodded. "Perhaps we should have our men practice with bows and arrows. If we're forced to defend the castle, I'd prefer to do it from behind the stone walls, rather than meeting the enemy out in the open."

Ser Addam nodded. "Of course."

When Ser Addam left, Jaime turned to look out the window, thinking about his options, and heard someone enter the room behind him. He spun his chair around and saw Sansa hesitantly entering his solar, carrying the little two handled basket she kept the baby in at night. She didn't yet wish for Julianna to sleep alone in the nursery, and instead chose to keep her in the small basket, placing it beside her on the bed. Though, Jaime frequently gave in to his urge to hold his daughter, and took her from the basket during the night, cuddling her on his chest, against Sansa.

"Is she asleep?" he whispered, nodding toward the basket.

Sansa nodded, gently placing the basket on the sofa, and walking to Jaime, settling on his lap. He sighed in pleasure as she snuggled her head into the crook of his neck, her fingers playing at the back of his neck.

"Are you sorry to be missing the war?" she asked quietly.

Jaime wrapped his arms around her, holding her tightly. "Listening at the door?" She blushed and looked away guiltily as he laughed quietly, kissing her forehead. "I don't know how useful I'd be with only one hand. And, selfishly, I wouldn't wish to be parted from you or the babe."

She smiled, craning her neck up to kiss him. "I'm glad you're here with me. Where I know you're safe." She kissed him again, smiling as he held her tighter.

"You worry for my safety, do you?"

Her eyes widened and she rested her hand on his cheek. "Of course I do. I could not bear for you to be out in the war…not knowing if you were safe or not. I will do anything I can to protect you." He kissed her, holding her close.

"How's our girl today?" he whispered between kisses, nodding toward the basket on the sofa.

"She's perfect. Sleeping like a little angel." Sansa looked over the letters scattered over Jaime's desk. "What news from King's Landing?"

"Wouldn't you rather kiss me than speak of that?"

"Of course," she said, smiling. "But I still wish to hear what's happened."

Jaime sighed, stroking her hair as she cuddled against his chest. "Cersei's doing her best to alienate the Tyrell's. She wants the regency back from Ser Kevan, but I doubt she'll get it."

"How is Tommen?" she asked quietly. "Do you think he's all right in King's Landing?" Sansa knew about Cersei's imprisonment and subsequent trial by battle and had spoken to Jaime before about her worry that the Tyrells would not take care of Tommen. She'd asked if perhaps he could come to the Rock, but Jaime knew it was not safe for Tommen to travel during wartime, and he knew that was a sure way to bring Cersei's wrath upon them. He already worried about her reaction to the news of Julianna's birth. Cersei was nothing if not a jealous creature, and he knew she would not like to think that another child was more important to Jaime than hers were.

"I'm certain Tommen is well. He's king. The Tyrell's would not harm him. He's too young to understand the power struggle going on. I expect he's being kept far away from the political intrigue at court."

"Margaery told me she would make sure he's safe, but I worry for him. He's only a little boy and…bad things can happen in the capitol." Jaime knew that she was thinking about the brutal treatment she had received, and kissed her temple, holding her as they looked out the window at the snow falling over the Sunset Sea. The babe started fussing and Sansa moved to get her but Jaime lifted her off his lap and put her in his chair.

"I'll get her," he murmured, kissing the top of Sansa's head. "Come here, my little lioness," he whispered, lifting Julianna from her basket and cradling her in his arms. She immediately quieted down, and began cooing, when Jaime held her.

"She feels safe with you. Do you think she knows we're her parents?" Sansa asked, rising from Jaime's chair and curling up on the sofa beside him, her feet tucked beneath her.

"I don't know," he said, as the babe grasped his finger tightly, looking at them both. "I know I felt connected to her the moment I held her."

"Me, too," Sansa said, resting her head on his shoulder. "She's a little bit of both of us," Sansa murmured, looking over her baby's features. "We really are a family now, aren't we?"

Jaime smiled as he thought about her words. It had been so long since he'd truly been part of a family. Probably not since his mother died. He had felt a strong brotherly connection with Tyrion his whole life, but he, Tyrion, Cersei and their father had never felt like a true family. And Cersei had been more a lover than a sister. Now that he had his sweet Sansa, and the perfect infant in his arms, he truly felt that he belonged to someone.

"Yes, we are, sweet girl. A real family," he murmured, smiling down at Sansa as she curled up against him, fussing over their baby, which he held securely against his chest.

….

It had been little more than two weeks since Julianna was born, and Sansa was feeling physically well and had settled into a routine with Jaime and her little girl. She was still surprised by how much he loved and wanted to take care of their infant. More than once she had caught him holding her in his arms and just staring at her in wonder. It always made her smile when Jaime called her his "little lioness."

Since the baby was born, Sansa spent her mornings in the nursery, while Jaime and Arya sparred on the practice grounds. She enjoyed the time alone with her baby, holding her and nursing her. Her mother had come to visit her several times. Lady Catelyn only came to visit with Sansa when Jaime and Arya were sparring on the practice grounds - knowing there was no danger of seeing him. They never spoke of Sansa's husband. Instead, they spoke of the baby. Sansa knew it was a start and she was grateful to have her mother in her life.

Sansa rocked the babe to sleep and placed her in her bassinette, standing over and watching her. _I love you so much, my sweet baby. _She walked over to the sofa in front of the fire and folded up one of Julianna's blankets before settling down with her sewing.

She heard the sound of someone entering the nursery behind her and felt a hand clamp down over her mouth. She tried to turn her head, but whoever it was held her tightly, until he turned her around, slamming her against the wall. The man before her was a Lannister soldier she vaguely recognized from King's Landing. She thought he was one of the Queen's guards. She struggled against him, but his grip was unyielding. _What's happening? Why is he doing this?_ He reached for the front of her gown and ripped it open to the waist, exposing her breasts and looking her over. "Pity I won't have time to do all that was asked. I can see why Ser Jaime has been so entranced."

She heard the babe start cooing from her bassinette and Sansa's eyes flicked to it in terror. She began shaking her head. _Please don't hurt my baby. _

"I'm afraid the babe must die as well, Lady Lannister."

Sansa's eyes widened and she began struggling even harder, as his other hand closed around her throat. She started sputtering as she struggled for breath, and he moved his hand from her mouth, wrapping his other hand around her throat as well, his hands tightening around her neck.

_No…This can't be happening now. Not while we're so happy._

Sansa started kicking at him, landing several blows to his ankles and he shoved her to the ground, holding her down with his body. _Jaime. Jaime, where are you? Where are my guards?_ Sansa started clawing at the man's hands, scratching her own neck in the process, trying to get free. _It hurts._ Sansa began to panic. The pain in her lungs increased as every part of her screamed for air.

She tried to scream, but she couldn't manage more than a whisper. "Please…please stop."

"Sansa?"

She heard her sister's voice and her eyes flew around the room. She didn't think it possible, but he squeezed her neck harder. She saw Arya standing in the doorway, taking in the scene. Sansa tried to tell Arya to take the baby and run, but she couldn't breathe and couldn't speak.

_I love you, Jaime._

She saw Arya draw her little sword, just as everything went black.

….

_Sorry for the cliffhanger…the next chapter will pick up right where this one left off._


	49. Chapter 49

_I was going to post this tomorrow, but decided to post early because of the rather cruel cliffhanger, and because so many of you posted reviews – and it just hit 500 reviews! Thank you so much for reading and reviewing, and I hope you enjoy this chapter and what's to come._

…

Chapter 49

"_Let go of my sister!" _

Jaime heard Arya's cry as he and Ser Addam walked down the hallway, returning from visiting with his soldiers, to assure themselves that Jaime's men were doing what was necessary to be ready should the war come to the Westerlands and the harbors of Lannisport. He heard a man yelp in pain and the sound of steel clashing. And he heard Arya's voice again.

_"Get away from her!"_

When he heard her second shout, coming from the suite of rooms he shared with Sansa, Jaime began to run, Ser Addam on his heels. As he neared the entrance to the hallway, he saw that while all of Sansa's guards were where they normally waited for her, all were unconscious. He didn't notice any blood, though he didn't examine them closely, continuing towards Arya's voice.

_Perhaps the guards have been drugged…as I drugged the goalers in the black cells of King's Landing when I freed Tyrion._

As he passed the nursery, he heard another shout from within, and turned back, nearly colliding with Ser Addam, who was right on his heels. The men stepped into the doorway and Jaime saw Arya fighting with one of his soldiers. He was about to intervene when his eyes moved to a corner of the room and Jaime felt his heart stop at the sight of Sansa in a motionless heap on the floor. He couldn't look away from her, couldn't see anything else, as he willed her to move, but she didn't.

He knelt beside Sansa, his eyes taking in the fingermarks around her throat and he was vaguely aware of Ser Addam ordering someone to drop their sword. "Don't kill him just yet, Arya," Ser Addam murmured.

"Sansa?" Jaime whispered shakily, taking her in his arms. He grasped her wrist and felt a faint pulse. He carefully gathered his wife into his arms and turned his head. Ser Addam had a blade at the throat of the soldier, and Arya was standing in front of the bassinette, her small sword in her hand, clearly trying to protect the infant inside from the man Ser Addam was holding. It appeared Arya had stabbed the man at least once, as there was blood on her sword and a slash across his face.

"Is she…?" Arya's eyes filled with tears, and she could not finish her thought.

"She's alive. She's just unconscious." Jaime let out a shaky breath as he cradled Sansa in his arms. "Did he harm the babe?"

Arya shook her head. "He had his hands around Sansa's neck and I…I stabbed him in the leg to make him let go of her. Then he drew his sword but I…I didn't let him get close to the baby."

"You taught her well, Jaime" Addam said, continuing to hold his fellow soldier at swordpoint.

"She's the little Stark brat isn't she? The one that tried to harm King Joffrey? How can you turn your back on House Lannister and the crown? For _her_," he said, looking at Sansa with hate in his eyes.

"Gag him," Jaime ground out. "And take him to the dungeons. Strip him of his uniform first. Don't tell anyone what happened here until we know who sent him."

Ser Addam looked at him in surprise. "You don't want me to bring the Maester here to look at her?"

"No. Don't bring anyone here. Lock him up and return quickly." Jaime's head was spinning. _How could this happen? Here, at the Rock? This is where Sansa was supposed to be safe. _Jaime didn't know who he was supposed to trust now. He wasn't even certain he could trust the Maester with Sansa's life. _Someone came into my home and attacked my wife._

"Jaime," Ser Addam said, looking at the now gagged captive who seemed to know he was going to die. "He did not travel here with us from King's Landing. He remained behind. With the Queen," he said, speaking the last in a whisper.

Jaime nodded, knowing what Ser Addam was getting at. "Take him to the dungeons. Hurry back." He held Sansa against him, and took a deep breath, trying to think.

"Why don't you want the Maester to help her?" Arya asked in a shaky voice after Ser Addam had left with his prisoner.

Jaime stood, lifting Sansa into his arms, and carried her to the small couch in the nursery, holding her on his lap, grimacing at the marks on her neck and now noticing that her gown had been ripped open to the waist, exposing her breasts. _If he dared to violate her, he'll long for death. _ "Sansa," he whispered, running his hand over her hair.

"Someone should help her. Someone needs to make her wake up."

He sighed, taking one of Sansa's hands in his. "Arya, I don't know who I can trust here now. That includes the Maester. That…assassin…is a Lannister soldier. I know him. He swore allegiance to House Lannister. I have to find out who did this. I have to find out who sent him to kill Sansa." Though, in his heart, he already knew who had done it. What he didn't know was who else Cersei had turned against him. Jaime turned to Arya. "She'll wake up," he whispered insistently.

Jaime continued to hold Sansa's wrist, taking comfort that he still felt her pulse, and felt her shallow breaths against his neck. "Arya, I need you to bring your uncle here." No matter how much Edmure might hate him, Jaime knew he would never conspire with Cersei – or anyone else – to kill Sansa. He had little choice but to trust the man he was holding hostage. "Don't tell him what why, just bring him here. Now." He could see that she didn't want to leave her sister. "Please, Arya." She hesitated one more moment before running from the room.

He looked down at Sansa and saw her eyelids flutter but close back up again. "Sansa? Wake up sweet girl…please wake up," he begged. "I need you. Our little lioness needs you." He kissed her forehead. "Come back to me, Sansa." Sansa started rousing and Jaime watched as her eyes flew open and she started clawing at her throat. Jaime reached for her hands. "It's all right, Sansa. It's all right."

She looked at him and started gasping for air, rubbing at her throat. "I…couldn't breathe…" her voice was no more than a hoarse whisper and she continued to struggle a bit for breath.

"Stay calm, Sansa. Try to relax. You're all right. You can breathe now. Take a deep breath…slowly, it's all right." He watched her breathe with difficulty, but she was breathing. He could see that her throat was hurting.

She began looking around the room in a panic. "The baby? Where's our baby? He was going to kill her, too."

"She's all right. Don't upset yourself." Jaime gently put Sansa on the sofa, and walked over to the bassinette, peering in and closing his eyes in relief that his little girl was perfect, lying there, looking up at him. He lifted Julianna up, holding her against his chest and carried her to Sansa, placing her in her mother's arms. Sansa began to cry as she held their baby.

Jaime wrapped his arm around Sansa, kissing the top of her head. "Did he say anything to you?"

"He…he ripped open my dress and…said he didn't have time to…to rape me…" Sansa looked down at the babe in her arms, "He said he had to kill our baby, too. And then he," tears were streaming down her face as she reached for her throat. Jaime wiped the tears from her cheeks as she continued whispering to him. "I couldn't breathe and it hurt and…I tried to call for you but I couldn't. I couldn't breathe and Arya came in and…I don't remember anything after that."

Jaime held her in his arms, kissing the top of her head. Jaime felt his heart pounding as he held Sansa. _I almost lost her. She was almost murdered right here in our home._

"Jaime?" He turned and saw Ser Addam standing in the doorway. "He's in the dungeons. You're certain you don't wish for me to get the Maester?" He could see the concern in Ser Addam's eyes as he looked at Sansa, noting the marks on her throat.

Before Jaime could respond, Arya returned with Edmure behind her, obviously confused about why he had been summoned. Arya left her uncle in the doorway and ran to her sister hugging her tightly. "Thank you," Sansa whispered. "Thank you for protecting the baby. And me."

"I did what Jaime taught me to do," she said quietly.

Sansa held her gown closed as she continued holding the babe in her arms, and Arya squeezed onto the sofa to sit with them. Jaime saw Edmure looking at the marks on Sansa's neck. "What happened to her?"

"For now, nothing leaves this room, do you understand?"

"What happened to her?" he repeated.

"There is at least one traitor in my army and…he tried to kill Sansa and the babe. There may be others. I don't trust you with much, but I trust you not to harm Sansa. And not to allow anyone else to harm her. You and Arya will stay here with her. You will bolt the door and allow no one entry except Ser Addam or myself."

Edmure nodded, looking at Sansa with concern.

Sansa looked at Jaime in confusion. "You're leaving?" she asked, coughing and touching her throat in pain.

He stroked her hair gently. "I'll return shortly. There are things I have to do to ensure that you and the little one are safe. I won't rest until that is done." Jaime kissed her and moved toward the door, following Ser Addam. Jaime hesitated and drew his sword, handing it to Edmure, who seemed shocked that Jaime would arm him. "I'm trusting you with the life of my wife and child, Edmure."

"I won't let anyone harm them. You have my word. I'll protect them as I would Roslin and our babe." Jaime met the man's eyes and believed him to be sincere. He knew the man had affection for Sansa. And whatever he thought of Edmure, the man was honorable. Jaime nodded, following Addam from the room, hearing the door bolt behind him.

….

Jaime watched as Ser Addam tied up Sansa's would-be assassin. The man was now naked, and tied to the bars of his cell, with his arms tied over his head and his legs spread. The Northmen were locked up just across from them, and were becoming rowdy at the sight of the Kingslayer about to torture someone, who they assumed must be on their side of the war. He could see the fear in the eyes of the man who had planned to murder Sansa and his daughter. _He should be afraid._

"Who do you have there, Kingslayer? What are you doing to him?" Jaime ignored the shouts of the Northerners and approached the man.

"Remind me of your name," Jaime said quietly, pacing in front of him.

"Gottfried. Gottfried Lefford."

"That's right," Jaime said. "Your grandfather provides all of our stores and supplies. You've served as a red cloak for a good many years. My father's squire when you were a boy, if I recall correctly. You are going to die tonight," Jaime began, continuing to pace. "I'll give you the opportunity to decide how you die. If it will be quick or if it will be painful."

The man tried to appear unfazed, but his eyes gave him away.

"I see that Arya Stark has already given you a rather nasty looking cut to the thigh. Not to mention what she did to your face. And she's a mere child." Jaime held a dagger in his hand, dragging it down the length of the man's torso. "Just imagine what I can do to you. I can slit your throat, and give you a quick death. Or I can slowly open up your belly and we can all take a look at your insides before you die. One organ at a time. It's entirely up to you. If you'd prefer the relatively painless death, all you have to do is tell me who wanted my wife and child killed."

"What happened to Lady Sansa? Did he harm her?" The shouts from the Northerners grew louder as they heard why Jaime was torturing the man.

Jaime smiled as the man's eyes widened in the face of the Northerner's outrage. "Or perhaps the Northmen would like to deal with the man sent to kill Ned Stark's daughter and his grandchild," he said, deliberately elevating his voice.

"Give him to us Kingslayer! We'll question him for you!"

Jaime smirked at the would-be assassin. "They seem rather eager to assist me." He leaned towards the man, pressing the point of his dagger into the man's throat. "Tell me who sent you." Jaime waited as the man remained silent. "No?" Jaime took a leather strap from Ser Addam and walked into the cell, behind the man, sliding the strap through the bars, around the man's throat.

"Don't…Please." he said weakly, as Jaime tightened the strap around the man's throat.

"Is that what my wife said as you tightened your hands about her throat, cutting off her air?" Jaime pulled the strap tighter. "It hurts, doesn't it? You hurt her. You hurt her as you wrung the life out of a young mother." Jaime forced himself not to lose sight of his goal. He had to think about more than just revenge for what he'd done to Sansa. He loosened the strap, walking around to see the man's face as he coughed and sputtered, trying to breathe.

"Are you prepared to answer my question? I can do this all day." The man looked at him warily. "Tell me who would convince you to do something so stupid as to kill the Kingslayer's wife and child. Who convinced you to betray your oath to House Lannister and try to kill my heir?" Jaime whispered, his voice filled with menace.

"I did it for House Lannister," he hissed. "Your wife…she's divided this house. She's weakened you."

"Who sent you?"

"You know who sent me. The only person who cares about the future of House Lannister," he whispered. Jaime did know, but he needed to hear him say it and pressed the point of the dagger into the man's neck. "Your sister, the queen," he said, so low only Jaime and Ser Addam could hear it.

"How did she convince you?"

"She said…she needed you in the capitol to…to be rid of the Tyrells and to defeat Stannis. She said that you would not help her – you would not help King Tommen - as long as your lady wife influenced you to turn your back on your family. That it was your lady wife who convinced you to leave her to be executed. Were it not for your wife, you would have returned to be her champion. Lady Lannister needed to die for the good of the realm. For House Lannister. Just as when you killed the Mad King."

Jaime felt his blood boil as this man compared Sansa to the Mad King.

"Did he hurt Lady Sansa, Kingslayer? Where is she?" The Northmen couldn't hear their conversation and grew increasingly irate as they wondered about the fate of Sansa. Jaime couldn't alleviate their fears just yet – a plan was forming in his head.

"And why did you agree to rape her?" he whispered in the man's ear. "Was that for the good of the realm?"

The man looked away from Jaime in shame. "The queen was most insistent about that. And about the babe dying. I didn't rape her…I…"

"Why did she send you out of the many soldiers she could have sent?" The man swallowed nervously, and remained quiet. "Shall we try the strap again?" Jaime asked conversationally.

"The queen and I have been…close for many years. Since before she became queen. I served your father here, during Robert's Rebellion. When you away were serving the Mad King. I've always protected her. And loved her."

Jaime couldn't even see, as the rage overcame him. He had thought Cersei's infidelity had begun more recently, but it appeared she had always been a whore. Jaime had given up everything for her and she couldn't even keep her legs together and remain faithful to him. And now that he finally had a life of his own, she tried to take it all away. She had tried to take his sweet Sansa from him. And his baby girl.

Without another word, Jaime slashed the man's throat and left the dungeons with Ser Addam. He left Cersei's lover hanging there, bleeding all over the ground. He could hear the Northmen screaming at him, asking whether Sansa lived or died.

Ser Addam looked at him with concern. "What are you going to do, Jaime? She won't stop until…she'll send another. And another."

Jaime was silent for a long time before making a decision. Ser Addam knew Cersei well. He'd had his fair share of squabbles with Cersei growing up, when she became jealous of his friendship with Jaime. Much as it pained him, Jaime knew that Addam was right about her. She would not stop until Sansa was dead. "As far as anyone at the Rock knows, Sansa and the babe are dead."

"What did you say?" Addam asked, certain he had misheard.

"The only way to keep her from sending another assassin – one who might succeed – is to ensure that she believes Sansa and the babe are already dead."

"How can we possibly convince her of that? Your sister – she grew up here at the Rock – she knows all the servants, anyone could send a raven to King's Landing saying otherwise. We have no way of knowing if someone is acting as her spy."

"That's why _everyone_ must believe Sansa is dead. Only a select few – only those who have no connection to Cersei - can know different." Jaime thought about the secret rooms behind the lord's chambers. They were meant to hide the lord and lady of the keep in the event of a siege, but the rooms would serve well to conceal Sansa and the babe for a few days.

"Jaime, if no one sees a body…if she silent sisters don't come here…they will know she lives."

"For a few days, we can say that she is laid out in her bedchamber for the seven days of mourning – that I don't want their bodies far from me. That I don't want anyone to see them. Tell them I'm mad with grief. I don't expect we'll need to keep up the pretense for very long. Send word to King's Landing that Sansa and the babe were killed by an assassin. And make certain the queen regent is welcomed when she arrives."

….

_Next chapter: Jaime waits for Cersei to arrive at Casterly Rock_


	50. Chapter 50

_Thank you so much for continuing to read and review, especially now that I'm at the point of the story that has completely diverted from the book and I'm on my own in terms of the plotline. This chapter's a bit of a filler chapter, leading up to what comes next._

…

Chapter 50

After Sansa was settled, Jaime spent the rest of the day alone in his solar. He decided it was best if he remained locked away from everyone, creating the impression that he was too grief-stricken to see anyone or leave the rooms where Sansa's body – and the baby's - lay. The Maester had come by, determined to see Sansa's body, but Ser Addam had been most insistent that Jaime did not wish for anyone to have admittance. He had convinced the old man to give Jaime a few days alone with his grief.

Jaime felt guilty deceiving his staff. He knew many had come to care for Sansa very much. But he couldn't risk Cersei learning that her plan had failed. Lady Alys and her husband had tried to speak to Jaime, but he'd told his guards not to allow anyone in to see him – including them. He wasn't certain that he would be able to keep up the pretense of Sansa being dead if he saw the grief in their eyes. And he knew it was necessary that everyone believe Sansa was dead. He couldn't risk an inadvertent comment getting back to Cersei.

He'd left it to Ser Addam to question Sansa's guards, once they awoke from being drugged. They had said that Cersei's assassin, Lefford, had told them he'd arrived late in the night with a message for Lord Lannister from the Capitol. And he'd offered them a skin of fine Dornish red from King's Landing, sitting with them and catching up while they drank it. The next thing they remembered was being roused by Ser Addam. It did not appear that they were part of any plot, and Ser Addam told Jaime that they appeared genuinely grieved to learn of the "death" of Lady Sansa and her baby. Jaime was satisfied that Sansa's guards were not a part of any plot to harm her.

Ser Addam continued questioning the staff, to see if anyone aroused his suspicions while Jaime waited. The longer he was alone with his thoughts, waiting for Cersei to arrive, the more he thought about his sister and how they had gotten to this point.

Jaime had always loved Cersei, ever since he was very small. It had begun as a brotherly love but gradually, after their mother had died and he sought more comfort from Cersei, their relationship had changed. Jaime had begun to feel a consuming passion for her that had pushed aside all others in his life. And his feelings for Cersei only became more intense, as she became his whole world.

He remembered when she had come to him to convince him to join the Kingsguard. She had come up with the idea to keep him from marrying Lysa Tully. She had said joining the Kingsguard would allow them to always be together. She had said that she loved him too much to be parted from him. Jaime had believed every word she said then, but now he wondered. He wondered if her intention was to prevent him from having a family of his own. So he wouldn't come to care for another woman more than her. So that he wouldn't have children that he would put above his twin. Cersei had engineered everything so that Jaime had only her.

Jaime realized that he was nothing more than a pawn. He was simply another man to lead around by the cock, to do her bidding. He was no different than that soldier she had convinced to kill Sansa by using her body to keep him under her spell. Making him believe that he loved her so that he would do anything she asked. Jaime was finally able to admit to himself that Cersei had taken him into her bed not because she loved him, but to control him. If she couldn't be Tywin Lannister's heir herself, then she would exert complete control over his heir.

Cersei had taken every bit of his life for herself, until Sansa. Sansa, who truly loved him and gave him a life of his own and a child he could love. For the first time in years and years, he wasn't alone. And Cersei had tried to take her away. She'd sent one of her many lovers to kill and brutalize his sweet wife and their newborn babe. She'd planned to take everything away from him – again - so that he'd be alone and vulnerable to her control once more. Jaime took a deep breath, reminding himself that she had failed. _Sansa's safe. No one can harm her now._

Jaime couldn't help feeling guilty every time he thought of seeing Sansa's broken body on the ground, and the marks on her neck. It was his fault that Sansa had nearly died. It was his fault that Sansa had nearly been deprived of seeing their daughter grow up. It wasn't only Cersei who was to blame for the situation they were in. Jaime knew that he should have put an end to his relationship with Cersei long ago. It was his fault that Cersei thought she could gain something from Sansa's death.

Jaime was supposed to protect Sansa. When he put that red cloak of House Lannister around her shoulders, he had promised to protect her from anyone who would dare harm her. He had sworn to her that she was safe at the Rock. And he had failed her. Yet another broken vow. If she or Julianna had died, Jaime would never have forgiven himself. If they had died, he would have had nothing left to live for. He understood what his father must have felt when his mother died. Jaime he imagined he would have turned just as hard and cold as Lord Tywin had.

Sansa and the babe were now safely locked away, entrusted to the care and protection of Pia and Gendry, two people he knew had no connection to Cersei. Jaime knew he was placing a lot of trust in the two of them, but they were two of the few people at the Rock that had no association with Cersei. He trusted Pia with Sansa and his daughter – she'd more than proven her loyalty to him and to Sansa. And Jaime had gotten to know Gendry because of the time he spent with Arya. Jaime saw that the boy had honor. And he cared for Arya, which told Jaime that he would not allow harm to come to her sister. The staff wasn't likely to miss either of them as they spent time hidden away with Sansa.

Arya had insisted on staying with her sister for as long as she could without arousing suspicion, and Sansa had looked at him pleadingly, very much wishing for her little sister's company. Jaime had agreed that she could stay with Sansa for a few hours, though she would eventually have to be smuggled out, past Jaime's own guards. He supposed Arya would have to go back into the hidden rooms with Sansa once Cersei arrived – she couldn't see the girl there, or she might demand her as a prisoner.

Jaime's thoughts were interrupted when he heard a woman's voice demanding entrance to his solar. As her voice grew louder, he recognized it as Lady Catelyn. He couldn't make out what exactly she was yelling about, though she was clearly upset. He opened the door and looked at his guards in annoyance. "Let her in," he huffed, returning to his seat.

Only Pia and Ser Addam had been allowed entrance to his solar all day, though Pia was actually bringing food for Sansa, not him. Jaime noticed that Edmure followed Lady Catelyn into the solar and closed the door behind them. "Mother Stark, what brings you here this evening?" he asked, leaning back in his chair.

"Where is Sansa? Where is my daughter?" Jaime looked at Edmure, annoyed that he may have told his sister about the attempt on Sansa's life, after Jaime had been clear about his intentions. "I heard the servants whispering," she continued, her voice breaking. "They spoke of Sansa and her child being dead…murdered by Stannis Baratheon's assassin."

Edmure met Jaime's gaze and he knew the younger man wanted to reassure his sister that Sansa had not been harmed, though he had apparently not violated Jaime's confidence. Jaime should have realized the staff would be gossiping and that Lady Catelyn would hear that her daughter was dead. _I suppose the woman has the right to know that her daughter hasn't been murdered._

Before Jaime could speak, Lady Catelyn lunged toward him and Edmure grabbed her around the waist, holding her back as she began to scream at him. "You're supposed to protect Sansa! How could you allow someone to harm her? I had thought you would at least protect the mother of your child! I want to see her."

Jaime could see that she was terrified that Sansa was dead. Like her three sons. "You must lower your voice," Jaime ground out.

"No. Tell me what happened to my daughter. How could you allow this to happen?"

"Cat, listen to him," Edmure whispered in her ear as she began to cry. "Sansa's life depends on it."

"She's still alive?" she whispered, not daring to hope.

"Yes," Jaime said quietly. "But no one outside of this room can know that. If anyone finds out she lives…"

"Did someone hurt her?"

"An assassin was sent. He failed. Arya walked in on him as tried to squeeze the life from her. And he told Sansa that he'd kill the babe as well."

"Stannis would not kill Sansa like that. He'd kill _you_," she snarled. "Who would want to kill Sansa? Who would want to kill a baby?" Her eyes narrowed. "Your sister did this." Jaime was surprised she came to the correct conclusion so quickly. "What's to stop her from trying again?"

Jaime poured himself a cup of wine, to dull his racing mind. "That's why no one must know that Sansa is alive. Cersei must believe that she is dead. I will deal with my sister before she has the chance to harm Sansa again."

"I want to see Sansa."

"No. I won't risk it. You must leave here and keep to yourself. You must speak nothing of Sansa being alive."

"How do I know you aren't lying? How do I know she's not dead?"

"I've seen her, Cat. She's fine. A bit shaken, a few bruises, but she's well. The babe was unharmed." Edmure spoke up, squeezing her shoulders. "Arya's with her now. She's not alone. Jaime is doing everything possible to see to her safety. You need to trust him."

Lady Catelyn's eyes flashed. "After all you've done – after all that the Lannisters have done to hurt my family – how can either of you ask me to trust _him _with my daughter's life?"

"I love Sansa. Whatever you think of me, I love her. I won't allow anyone to hurt her."

"You have already allowed her to be hurt," she hissed. "You were supposed to protect her and your sister nearly killed her. Now she has to hide in her own home."

Jaime nodded, taking a large gulp of wine. He didn't need Catelyn Stark to tell him that he'd failed in his duty to protect Sansa. He was well aware and the guilt was eating at him. He knew it was his fault that Cersei wanted Sansa and Julianna dead. It was his weakness, his depravity, that was endangering Sansa and their child.

"I would never allow anyone – no matter who they are – to harm her. I swear to you. I will not allow my sister to hurt Sansa or my daughter again."

He could see that she wanted to trust him. Though, he supposed he was her only option. He could see that Lady Catelyn knew he loved Sansa, despite her personal feelings for him. "You must stop the queen. My daughter has insisted you will protect her. Prove her correct. I can't lose another child," she whispered.

"You won't. I swear to you, no one will harm Sansa." Jaime knew what needed to be done. This was one vow that he would not break. Sansa and their babe were everything to him. He had no intention of allowing Cersei to hurt either one of them. No matter what it might cost him.

….

Sansa was curled up on the bed in the small room Jaime had put her in after she'd nearly lost her life. Arya had left several hours ago and Sansa was now alone with her baby. Julianna was suckling happily at her breast. Sansa felt tears form in her eyes as she thought about how she'd nearly died. She realized how much dying would have cost her. She would never have seen Jaime again, or held this tiny little creature in her arms again. She ran her fingers over the soft strands of red hair covering Julianna's head.

"I love you," she whispered to the babe. She quietly sang a song to Julianna, until she fell asleep. Sansa put her in the little basket she slept in, absently running her fingers over her tiny arm. Both to comfort the infant and to comfort herself.

Sansa didn't understand why anyone would want to kill her and her baby. Julianna was so innocent. She was barely more than two weeks old. _Why would anyone insist upon killing her?_

Sansa heard the sound of the chamber door opening and Jaime entered, bolting the door behind him, resting his back against the door and exhaling deeply. He looked at Sansa and she could see anguish in his expression. She wondered if something else had happened. She saw his eyes moving over her neck as he walked towards her. She had seen the marks on her neck from the man's fingers and she knew they must be worse now that some time had passed.

Jaime walked over to the bed and looked down at the sleeping infant before returning his eyes to Sansa. "Are you all right?" he asked quietly, his fingers skimming over her throat.

She nodded. "It's easier to breathe. And talk."

He shakily sat down on the bed. "I'm sorry I failed you," he whispered, taking her hand in his own.

"How did you fail me?"

"I promised to protect you – I promised that no one would ever harm you. And I failed. You were…almost murdered here in our home…and it's my fault."

Sansa moved closer to him, and rested her hands on his shoulders. "Jaime, it's not your fault."

He looked again at the marks on her neck. "When I saw you, crumpled on the floor, not moving…" he trailed off, unable to finish his thoughts and she saw now how emotional he was about what had happened. He had seemed so in control before, giving orders and making plans to protect she and Julianna, but now she saw that he was not completely in control. She saw that he was very much affected by her nearly being killed.

"I'm all right," she whispered, wrapping her arms around his neck.

Jaime gripped her tightly and she could feel his terror, which scared her more than anything. "I'd have nothing without you, Sansa. If you had…if you had died…I may as well have died, too." Sansa smoothed her hands over his back, trying to comfort him, as his breath came in shaky gasps. "No one will harm you, Sansa. I promise…this will not happen again."

She kissed him softly. "Do you know who…who sent him?" she whispered.

He released her, looking at Julianna before meeting her eyes, a shamed expression on his face. "Cersei," he whispered. "She won't do it again." Sansa wasn't truly surprised to hear that Cersei was the one behind trying to kill her. But she understood now why Jaime was taking it to heart – it was because of his relationship with his sister that she was now targeting Sansa.

"How do you know she won't try again?"

"I promise you, I will protect you. We had a raven from King's Landing early this afternoon. Cersei travels here as we speak. She was notified of your death. And of the babe's death."

Sansa's eyes widened. "What do you mean? My death?"

"She believes you are dead and now she travels here…to console me, no doubt. As I knew she would." Sansa felt angry at the thought of Cersei coming to the Rock to comfort Jaime. _Why won't she just accept that he's mine now?_

"What are you going to do?"

"Don't waste your energy worrying about her, sweet girl. I'll take care of it. She'll not harm you again. You and the little lioness will have to stay in here until she leaves. No one can know that you live. Word might get back to Cersei. It's soundproof in here, so no one will hear if the babe cries. Gendry will be just outside there at all times, guarding you. He's there now. Arya can stay in here with you as well, if you like, once Cersei arrives. Your mother…she heard the servants talking and was very worried –"

"She's doesn't believe I'm dead, does she?"

"No. I told her you're safe."

"Can…can you stay with us here, tonight?" She felt her eyes filling with tears and cursed her weakness. After coming so close to dying – and never being able to feel Jaime's arms around her again – Sansa wanted nothing more than to sleep in his arms.

"Nothing could keep me from my girls tonight," he whispered, wiping the tears from her eyes.

Sansa smiled and kissed him, slowly moving her mouth over Jaime's and was surprised by the passion and aggression with which Jaime returned her kiss. She rested her hands on the side of his face, as he kissed her.

"I don't think I realized how lost I would be without you," he whispered. They continued kissing, and Jaime gripped her hips, pulling her towards him. "You're truly everything to me, Sansa." She sensed they were getting too heated as he began pulling at her clothes. She could tell that he wanted to make love to her.

"Jaime," she whispered, a smile in her voice, "You know we can't. It's still too soon after," she looked over at the sleeping infant in the basket beside her.

He exhaled deeply in frustration, kissing her forehead as he tried to calm his passion. She ran her hands over his hair and over his shoulders, just holding him, until he sighed and stood up. She watched as Jaime took off his clothes and lifted the sleeping babe from her little bed, placing the basket on the floor before climbing into bed beside Sansa. She could see the emotion on his face as he looked at their baby. He gently kissed her forehead, before he laid back against the pillows, cuddling their daughter against his bare chest. She squeaked and nuzzled her head against him before falling back to sleep.

Now that she saw how emotional he was, she knew that, had Cersei succeeded in having her killed, Jaime would have been absolutely broken. Sansa curled up against Jaime and rested her hand atop his, beside the baby. _We can't ever be separated. Not ever. _"I love you, Jaime."

"I love you, too, Sansa. The two of you are my whole world," he whispered. "And I swear to you…I will make you safe. Cersei will never touch you again."

…

_Next Chapter: Cersei arrives at Casterly Rock_


	51. Chapter 51

_Warning: this is a pretty dark chapter, but, I think, consistent with the characters_

…

Chapter 51

Jaime awoke with a start, his heart racing. Images of the broken bodies of Sansa and their baby – of Sansa lying dead in his arms – floated through his mind as he looked around the darkened chamber. _It was just a dream. _He looked down and breathed a sigh of relief. Sansa was draped across his chest, her leg across his hips. Sansa had returned Julianna to her little basket after nursing her during the night, and shifted herself into Jaime's arms. Jaime knew that Sansa needed him to hold her as much as he needed to feel her in his arms, her heart beating against his chest. They both needed the reassurance that the other was alive and well.

It was still dark out. Not that there were many hours of light in the day as winter progressed. Soon it would be dark for days at a time. The window in the hidden chamber was small, but it was large enough to allow whomever was inside to monitor the time of day and whether the castle was under siege. Jaime wasn't ready to wake up and remained in bed, holding Sansa in his arms, lightly running his hand over her hair as he thought about what he was going to do when Cersei arrived at the Rock.

Jaime lay there with Sansa for hours until the door to the hidden chamber opened silently and Pia quietly crept in, leaving a tray of food for he and Sansa to break their fast. She nodded to him in greeting before slipping out of the chamber, no doubt to sit in the hallway where Gendry was standing guard, until she was needed.

He carefully moved Sansa onto the mattress, gently kissing her forehead. He looked at the bruises on her throat – her attacker's finger marks becoming even more visible against her pale skin – and felt consumed with rage. He carefully unlaced her gown and saw scratches where she had tried to pry the assassin's hands off of her throat.

He heard little gurgles coming from the baby and leaned over Sansa, looking into the basket. Julianna was lying there, staring up at him. He smiled and reached for her, lifting her into his arms. "Good morning, little lioness," he whispered, resting her in the crook of his arm. "How about you let your mother sleep for a while longer?"

It still amazed him how much the baby looked like Sansa. She rubbed her little head against his chest as her tiny hands grasped at him and he gave her one of his fingers to grip tightly. He was filled with a renewed anger at Cersei as he thought about her plans for his infant daughter. Knowing that she had sent someone to kill the baby in his arms made him hate her in a way that he never could have imagined. He smiled faintly at his daughter as she cuddled in his arms. It shouldn't have surprised him that Cersei wanted his daughter dead. He had heard about the slaughter of Robert's bastards on Cersei's orders. Why would she act any differently with this child, who she must feel is a threat to something she wants?

"No one will ever harm you as long as I draw breath," he promised the baby. "I will do whatever is necessary for you and your mother to be safe." She squeaked in reply and Jaime felt Sansa's eyes on him and turned to see her sleepily watching him. She smiled as she stretched and sat up, leaning over to kiss him and gently kiss the baby's head. "No one will take her from us," he told Sansa. "I promise you."

Sansa threaded her fingers through the hair at the back of his neck. "Are you all right, Jaime?" she asked quietly.

"I should be asking you that."

"I'm fine. But you…you don't seem all right." He nodded, surprised at how well Sansa had come to know him. Jaime was still shaken over finding Sansa like that and knowing Cersei had done it. Jaime was not looking forward to dealing with his sister, though he knew it had to be done. "Cersei will be here soon, won't she?" Sansa asked quietly.

"I expect she will."

"What will you do?"

"Make sure she never harms you or our girl ever again." He turned to look at Sansa, still holding Julianna in his arms. "I'm not the same man I was before we married. I hope you know that. You've changed me…loving you has changed me."

Sansa smiled. "There was always good in you, Jaime. Though, I can't imagine the Jaime Lannister who came to Winterfell so long ago being so content to hold a baby in his arms, as you are." Sansa leaned against him. "I worry that…I worry that Cersei will hurt you."

"She won't hurt me. She's already tried to hurt me in the worst way possible. But she failed. Hurting you or our girl…is the surest way to hurt me. To break me." He nodded toward the tray of food at the foot of the bed. "Have something to eat before the little one starts demanding your attention." Sansa shifted toward the end of the bed and reached for a bowl of fruit, helping herself to some and enjoying the sight of Jaime and their baby. "I expect you'll have to be in here all day today, Sansa. And possibly part of tomorrow, depending on when Cersei arrives. Pia will stay with you and make sure that you have food and anything else you need. Gendry will continue to stand guard."

"He's very sweet. He takes the duty you've given him very seriously," she said quietly. "And Arya's quite fond of him."

"She is that. I suppose I shouldn't mock her about it as much as I do."

Sansa rolled her eyes. "I don't think you can stop yourself."

Jaime smiled, shifting the baby in his arms. "When Cersei gets here, I'll send Arya to stay with you. I don't want Cersei to see her."

Sansa nodded and he could see that she wondered what he was planning. Jaime returned his gaze to his daughter, happily snuggled up in his arms. _It's my responsibility to protect her. No matter what it costs me personally._

…

It was early evening when the scouts spotted the Queen Regent's wheelhouse from the top of the battlements. She was escorted by a thousand Lannister soldiers. No doubt Ser Kevan had refused to spare any others. As soon as he received word of her arrival, Jaime moved to sit in the library, not wishing for Cersei to be drawn anywhere near Sansa's hiding place. All of the doors to his and Sansa's rooms were bolted shut from the inside and Gendry was under strict orders not to allow anyone to enter.

He didn't have to wait long before Cersei appeared in the doorway to the library, all crimson and gold. She'd had her winter furs dyed crimson, with golden buckles and golden threads, and her golden hair shone brightly. She was still every inch the perfect, beautiful queen. Every inch the woman he had loved for most of his life. She didn't appear to have suffered much during her imprisonment. She looked just the same as he remembered. Jaime turned his eyes away from her, preferring to focus on the wine in his hand, lest she see his anger.

"Are you not going to welcome me home, Jaime? We've not seen each other for many months. I have missed you." He felt her move closer to him and took a large swallow of his wine as the smell of her perfume assailed his senses.

Jaime nodded. "You seem well. None the worse off after being imprisoned. Why are you here?" he asked, draining his glass. Jaime felt like a tightly coiled ball of anger. All of his nerves were firing at once as he spoke to the woman who had tried to kill his wife and child.

"What do you mean, why am I here? Of course I would be here, Jaime. For you," she whispered, leaning on the arm of his chair as she began stroking his hair. Jaime fought every instinct that he had to pull away from her. It wasn't the time. Not yet. The servants were fluttering around and bringing in food for their queen. "I know that you cared for her. I could not stay away and leave you here alone with your grief."

Jaime laughed bitterly pulling away from her and rising from his chair to refill his wine. "Don't pretend to grieve for Sansa or for me. We both know you're rejoicing at her death."

"That's ungenerous. I came all this way for you. To comfort you. Even if you didn't come to me when I needed you." Her tone gave her away. She was angry and jealous that he had ignored her request to be her champion. "I protected you," she whispered. "I never named you, only Lancel."

"You protected yourself. They'd have executed you if you'd named me."

She pouted, taking a sip of wine. "You promised to always love me. Always protect me. I waited for you and heard nothing."

"Surely you haven't forgotten this, sister. I recall with perfect clarity your disgust at my disfigurement. I believe the words you used were 'useless cripple,'" he said, thrusting his golden hand in her face, his anger at her rejection of him coming forth. "I could hardly have won a trial by battle."

"You would have won. With my life on the line, you would not have failed. I thought perhaps Sansa would not let you come to me."

"Sansa was due to give birth. I couldn't leave her to walk into certain death. Not when I promised to be with her for the birth of our child."

"So you chose her over me?"

"She was my wife, Cersei. I should choose her over all others. I took vows to love her, to protect her…to be loyal to her."

He could see the jealous rage in Cersei's face at his words. "Of course. _Now_ vows are suddenly important to you. What about her relations? Do you think I don't know that Catelyn Stark and Edmure Tully are living here? It's bad enough that you liberated the Northern Lords that Walder Frey took as prisoners at the Red Wedding. At least they are in the dungeons like actual prisoners. In the morning, I'll see to it that _all _of the prisoners are sent to the dungeons."

Jaime felt anger overcome him. "_You_ are not in charge here, Cersei. I am Lord of the Rock. You are nothing here."

"I am Queen Regent."

"Ser Kevan is Regent. Not you. You have no authority here. Not over me or anyone else. It is for me to choose how my hostages are treated."

He saw her tamp down her rage. _She must want something from me, still or she would certainly shriek as I know she wishes to. Perhaps sending someone to kill Sansa was about more than punishing me. _

"Let's not fight brother. Not after all you've been through. It's not good for you to stay here alone. And I need your help. _For Tommen._ They won't let me near him, Jaime. The Tyrells…perhaps you would return to King's Landing with me? We…we could rule together. As you always wished for. It might do you well. To give you something to forget your grief. You could help me fight Stannis and get your revenge. For what he did to Sansa and the child," she offered.

Jaime met her eyes and really looked, trying to see the monster that he knew was inside her. He should have known this was about power. That she wanted to wield him as a weapon. Again. "I'm going to bed. The staff will see to your needs." There were far too many staff members around for him to speak openly to her, and Jaime was not in the mood to spend any more time with his sister than necessary.

"Jaime, don't be this way. Stay here with me for a while." She clearly noted the direction he took. "Where are you going? The lord's chambers are the other way."

"I can't sleep in there anymore. I can't sleep in the rooms where Sansa and the babe were murdered. Good night, sister."

…

Jaime sat on the bed, in his childhood room, leaning against the headboard and thought about his relationship with Cersei. They'd always been close but when their mother died, and their father spent even more time in King's Landing – devoting all of his time and energy to being Hand of the King, Cersei had been his only solace. Now, she was the root of his misery.

It wasn't long before the chamber door opened and Cersei silently entered his room. He watched her as she bolted the door and slowly made her way towards him, wearing only her dressing gown. She quickly shed the thin silk and climbed atop him, naked as her nameday, and pressed her breasts against his chest. Jaime gripped one of her arms, holding her still. He had been waiting for her to come to his room, but he had thought she would be a bit more subtle about it. _She can't honestly believe that I would welcome her back into my bed before Sansa's body is even cold._

"What are you doing?" he ground out.

"I merely wish to comfort you. I know you cared for her and the child." She gently kissed his forehead. "Sex has always comforted you in the past," she murmured, sitting back and exposing her body to him. He looked at her, wondering how someone so beautiful, could be so ugly on the inside. He'd been agonizing over his options for dealing with Cersei for the past day, but he knew what he had to do. She had not left him any options.

"Why do you come to me now? After rejecting me so cruelly in King's Landing the moment I wasn't perfect? After proclaiming me useless and saying Sansa could have me?"

Cersei leaned forward and kissed him. He returned her kiss for a moment, knowing it was goodbye, before gripping her tightly, holding her on his lap. She began to reach between them for the laces on his breeches. "Take me, Jaime. Get inside me. We'll both feel better if we can join as one again."

He held her hands still. "Did you ever love me? Or was I only ever another soldier you could send into battle for you?" He knew the answer, but he wanted to hear it from her own lips.

"Of course I loved you," she whispered sweetly, using the voice that had always seduced him into believing her.

Jaime moved his hand to her neck, initially as a caress, until he tightened his grip, pushing Cersei onto her back. He could see the excitement in her eyes. _She thinks I've given in – that I'm going to fuck her brutally, as she likes._ He simply held her there for a few moments, looking at her and wondering where it all went so wrong. Cersei began to shift uncomfortably, realizing he was just holding her down, and making no move to fuck her. She met his eyes and he saw fear reflected back. _She must see the anger in my eyes._

"What are you doing, Jaime?"

"How could you? How could you send an assassin to kill what I loved? To kill my wife and my child?"

"I didn't…I…It was Stannis."

"Don't lie to me. I have news for you. You failed. Sansa and the babe live."

"But you said –"

"I knew you'd come here once you heard that your lover had killed Sansa."

"What did you say?"

"You heard me. I don't imagine you care, but he's dead. The fool may have loved you, but we both know, sweet sister, that you didn't love him. He was only too happy to answer my questions after some…motivation. He told me you sent him. That you said Sansa had weakened me and that she had to be killed for the good of House Lannister."

"She has weakened you," Cersei roared back, freeing herself from his grip, not caring about her nakedness as she screamed at him. "She and that little mongrel of hers weakened the warrior – the lion – inside you. Before _her_, you would never have been content to sit here at the Rock, gazing at a baby, as if you were some sort of wet nurse. You would have come to me, no matter what. Instead, you left me there to die! What was I supposed to do?"

"I couldn't be your champion. I would have died."

"You would not have died. We came into the world together and will leave together. I can't die as long as you live."

"I guess we'll see about that," Jaime murmured to himself. "Tell me, sister, how would having Sansa raped by your lover benefit House Lannister?" Cersei looked at him defiantly. "I suppose, that was only for your own pleasure. For your own revenge. But, that's what this whole thing was about. Revenge. You had already prevailed in your trial by battle. What good was killing Sansa? It wasn't going to bring me to your side."

"Where is she? Where's the little brat?"

"Don't speak of my daughter that way."

"Your daughter," she snarled, shoving him away. "You have a daughter. You have two children who are pure Lannisters. But you think only of Sansa and her little pup. Fine. Leave them here. Leave them here, and return to King's Landing with me. That's all I want. They can live here, safe and happy."

Jaime shook his head. "It's too late for that. My place is with Sansa and our daughter. My only true born child. The only child I've been permitted to love. She's such a tiny little thing. And she looks just like her mother. Just like Sansa. Except her eyes. Her eyes are bright green…just like ours. There's no denying she's a Lannister."

Jaime took a deep breath, fighting back his emotions. "You know, after I joined the Kingsguard and Aerys sent me away – back to King's Landing…I've not been happy. Not in all those years. Not until father gave Sansa to me." He met his sister's eyes – so like his own. "I finally found happiness, after years of misery, after losing what I thought was the best part of me, after your rejection…and you tried to take that happiness away."

"She's ruining everything," Cersei blurted out. "You are _mine._"

Jaime held Cersei against the wall by the throat. "You've proven that you can't be trusted," he said quietly. "I thought about imprisoning you in the dungeons or simply telling you that you failed and banishing you from the Rock but…I know that won't stop you. You'd still find a way to harm Sansa. I could never let my guard down. Don't you wonder why I let you believe Sansa was dead? Don't you wonder why I lured you here?" Cersei struggled against him, trying to push him away, but Jaime did not yield. "It was because I knew you would never give up until you got what you wanted. You're relentless like that."

He could see that Cersei could hardly breathe. She certainly couldn't scream. "I suppose it's fitting that our relationship would end in the same room where you gave me your maidenhead. Though, now I see it was you who took my innocence, not the other way around."

Her eyes widened and she shook her head as she realized what he was saying.

"I know that you're my sister. And I'm supposed to love you and take care of you. It's even a vow I swore when I became a knight. But you've gone too far. And…you've left me no choice. I have to protect the innocent. Sansa and our daughter – _my daughter _– are innocents. I can't allow you to harm them again."

He felt tears burning in his eyes. "I know you understand," he whispered. "You'd do the same if someone tried to have your child killed."

Jaime closed his eyes and turned his head away as he squeezed harder, pressing the metal hand against her throat. He felt her trying to scratch it away, but the gold was unyielding. He heard her whisper his name and met her eyes, watching as the light slowly died. Jaime began to sob as she stopped moving and he no longer felt her heart pounding against his chest.

He gently lowered her body to the ground and held her in his arms, forcing his grief away. _You had no choice. Sansa would never have been safe. Julianna would never have been safe. _He forced away his grief – as he had so many times in his life – and rose to his feet. He left the room, closing the door behind him. Jaime slowly wandered back to his solar and waited for a servant to find Cersei's body.

…

_I think this was in character for Jaime, given the intensity he feels for those he loves, but let me know what you think…_

_Next Chapter: Sansa learns of Cersei's death and tries to comfort Jaime_


	52. Chapter 52

_Thanks to all of you for your reviews. I was a little nervous about having Jaime kill Cersei himself, but I've been trying to take the story in that direction for a while, since I thought it would take their relationship full circle. Now, for Sansa's reaction._

…

Chapter 52

Sansa was running out of patience. She was tired of being cooped up in a tiny little room. And far too much time had passed since she'd seen Jaime. It had been nearly two days since she had seen or heard from her husband. He had stayed with her and Julianna the first night they were in the hidden room, and then left her the next morning. Sansa knew that Cersei had arrived at Casterly Rock that evening, but since then she'd not heard anything.

Arya had stayed in the hidden room with her since Jaime had left. Sansa knew that Arya was with her mainly because Jaime did not want Cersei to see her, for fear of what the queen regent might do to Arya. They both expected that Cersei would try to take Arya as her prisoner, if not worse.

The night before, Sansa had waited for Jaime to slip into bed with her during the night. She had deliberately slept close to Arya, with the baby curled against her, leaving room for Jaime to join them in the bed, but he had not come to her all night. Instead of waking up with Jaime beside her, Sansa had awoken to Arya kicking her in the back in her sleep. Fear began to grip Sansa as morning turned into afternoon and now afternoon was turning into evening again. And still, Sansa had not seen or heard from him. _I can't spend another night in here without Jaime._

Sansa opened the door, startling Gendry in the process, judging by how quickly he jumped to his feet and all but ran towards her. "Do you need something, Lady Lannister?"

"Where is Jaime?" she asked in a shaky voice. Jaime had assured her that Cersei would not hurt him, but she no longer knew what the Queen was capable of. He should not have been gone for so long. _What will happen to us if she hurts Jaime?_

Gendry looked at her kindly. "I don't know where he is, my lady. Lord Lannister has not yet returned. He was quite clear that you were to stay here until it was safe for you, Arya and the babe to come out."

"When will that be?"

"I don't know, my lady. He said he would send for you once it was safe. Until then, you need to stay inside."

"We're bored," Arya whined, which only annoyed Sansa, since she thought Arya was undermining her attempt to convince Gendry to let her out. She wasn't so silly that she wanted out of her hiding place because she was _bored_. She was worried about Jaime and she wanted to make sure he had not been hurt.

Gendry motioned for Sansa to reenter her chamber and she stubbornly walked back inside, picking up her baby and settling in a chair as Gendry joined them in the small room. He clearly expected her to be as ill-behaved as Arya, based on the way he stationed himself in front of the door. "I know you want to know what's going on out there, but Lord Lannister would be very upset if anything happened to you. I swore to him that I would keep the two of you, and the babe, safe."

"Maybe you could go out there and see where Jaime is," Arya suggested.

"We're all going to do what he said. We're going to stay in here until he sends for you."

Arya huffed, throwing herself on the bed. Gendry did stay in the room with them for several hours, trying to keep them company and distracting Arya from her boredom. Sansa largely ignored them and instead focused her attention on her baby and silently praying for Jaime's safety.

There was a soft knock on the door and Pia appeared with a tray of food, though Sansa was not interested in it, and ordered Pia to bring back Jaime, to assure her that all was well. Pia seemed fearful, but nodded and promised to bring Ser Addam to her, stumbling over her words. Sansa was overcome with fear. _Why won't she bring Jaime here?_ After a few minutes, the door to the chamber opened, and Ser Addam appeared.

"Where's Jaime?" she asked quietly, fear beginning to take hold of her.

"He asked me to bring you and the babe back to your chamber," he said, not really answering her question. "Lady Arya, I believe your mother is waiting for you to dine with her. You don't need to stay in here anymore. The Queen Regent was murdered last night. Strangled as you were, my lady. Stannis Baratheon's assassin has been found and his head has been mounted outside the gates as a warning to anyone who would dare betray you or Lord Lannister."

She could see that Arya was almost gleeful that the Queen was dead, but Sansa carefully considered his words. "When was she killed?"

Ser Addam shifted uncomfortably. "Her body was found last night by a chambermaid." Sansa realized that Jaime should have come to get her long ago. He should have come for her the night before.

Sansa met Ser Addam's eyes, and they both knew who had killed Cersei, though he was loyal enough to Jaime not to say so. As much as she knew Jaime loved her and Julianna, she did not think that he would actually kill Cersei to protect them. She thought he would probably just scare her or threaten her.

"_Where_ is my lord husband?"

"In his solar. He has been quite distressed about the death of his sister. He's not left his solar since last night. The staff has been told that you and the child are alive. They know that any deception about that was to protect you."

Sansa nodded, gently placing Julianna in her little basket, and grasping the handles, carrying it in front of her as she and Arya followed Ser Addam out of the hidden rooms, which led them into Jaime's bedchamber. Sansa tried the door to Jaime's solar, and found it had been bolted shut. She immediately went to the door leading to the hallway, intending to go to Jaime as soon as she could. Her personal guards were waiting for her in the hallway, and they all fell to their knees when they saw her.

"Lady Lannister. You really are alive."

The men bowed their heads and seemed truly relieved to see her. Sansa was stunned by the outpouring of deference and respect from the red cloaks – the same men she had feared for so long while in King's Landing.

"They were quite upset to hear you had been harmed on their watch," Ser Addam whispered to her.

"Please forgive us, Lady Lannister, for failing in our duty to you."

Sansa smiled faintly. "There is nothing to forgive," she murmured. "You were preyed upon by an assassin – a traitor - who used your trust – your friendship – to harm myself and Ser Jaime. You could not have foreseen it. Please, stand," she said, uncomfortable with these men at her feet. She urged Arya to go to their mother and thanked Gendry for his protection.

"Would you like me to go with you?" Ser Addam asked gently. "You may find…Lord Lannister is not quite himself."

Sansa shook her head. "We'll be fine," she said quietly, asking her guards to remain outside their chambers. "I expect he hasn't eaten since the queen's body was discovered?"

Pia nodded. "I've brought him food but…he's not touched it."

"Will you bring a tray into our chamber?"

"Of course, my lady," Pia said, turning on her heel.

Sansa walked down the hallway to Jaime's solar, opening the door without knocking. The room was dark, except for the fire crackling. She saw that Jaime was seated in a chair in front of the fire. She also noticed quite a bit of broken glass and several items that appeared to have been swept off his desk and onto the floor.

She placed Julianna on top of Jaime's desk as she approached him. She wasn't sure what she would find, and was a bit fearful to touch him. She slowly walked towards Jaime, and saw that he was staring into the fire and that the decanter of wine beside him was nearly empty. She noticed an empty flagon on the floor beside him and blood on his arm, no doubt from the broken glass. "Jaime," she whispered. Sansa took a breath and gently ran her hand over his hair and he leaned into her touch, closing his eyes and letting out a ragged sigh.

"I'm sorry I didn't send for you sooner," he said quietly. "I didn't…I didn't want you to see me in this state."

Sansa carefully took the glass from his hand, placing it on the small table beside him and looked at his cut hand and arm. "I won't ask if you're all right. I can see that you're not."

"She'll never harm you again, Sansa. You're safe now," he whispered. She could hear the pain in his voice and felt her heart lurch.

"What have you been doing all day?"

"Drinking…trying to erase the image of Cersei…dead." Sansa sat in the chair beside him and let him talk. "Part of me always believed her when she said that we came into this world together, and we'd leave it together. Part of me thought when…she died…that I might die right there as well. But I had to risk it. For you. And our baby. I couldn't let her hurt you again."

She hated the despair in his voice. She hated Cersei for putting him in this position. _How could she not care that she would cause him such pain? How could she not care about breaking him so thoroughly?_

"She actually thought that I would just fall back into bed with her as your body lay in my chamber. I've been thinking about our past together and…I have to wonder if she ever loved me. I honestly believed…we loved each other. I believed we were meant to be together." He shook his head, leaning forward, his head in his hand. "I'm sorry I shouldn't…you shouldn't hear such things."

"It's all right. Say whatever you need to say." It did hurt her to hear Jaime speak of loving Cersei, but she could bear it. For him.

"I realize now that I was just a pawn. I wasted so much of my life doing her bidding. Having no life of my own."

Sansa knelt before him, running her hands over his thighs. "Jaime," she whispered, reaching up and caressing his neck. "You're going to be all right." The smell of sour wine assailed her senses as she got close to him. "We're going to get through this. Together. I'm going to take care of you. As you've always taken care of me." She felt tears forming in her eyes at his despair. "I know that…I know that you've always believed that Cersei was your other half but…I love you very much and…I'm here for you, Jaime. I'll always be here for you."

"You don't care that I'm a killer?" he asked quietly, his eyes focused on her hand resting on his thigh. "You don't fear me?"

Sansa shook her head gently, rising to sit on Jaime's lap. "I could never fear you, Jaime. I'm sorry that you had to…I know you must mourn your sister, no matter what led up to her death. It's all right to feel sad. You don't have to hide it from me."

"I'm the last one left," he whispered. "My parents are dead. Who knows where Tyrion is or what became of him. And now Cersei…."

"You're not the last one, Jaime," Sansa said gently. "Julianna is part of you. And she is a Lannister. And you have me. We will always be your family." Jaime rested his head against her chest and Sansa wrapped her arms around him. "I'm sorry, Jaime. I'm so sorry that you're hurting."

"I had to write to Tommen…to tell him that his mother's dead. I suppose I should write Myrcella in Dorne as well." Sansa held him tightly as his voice broke. "Did I do the wrong thing?" he asked, looking up at her, desperate for reassurance.

Sansa rose from his lap, walking to his desk and lifting their daughter from her carrier. She smiled and gently rocked her as she walked, to soothe her. Sansa settled herself back on Jaime's lap and held the babe against his chest. "You did what you had to do to protect her," Sansa whispered. "Look how small and helpless she is. Julianna needs us – she needs her father to protect her." She watched as Jaime gazed down at their baby, bringing her close to him and kissing the top of her head, tears forming in his eyes.

"Let's go to our chamber, Jaime. I've asked Pia to bring dinner up for us. She tells me you haven't eaten since before yesterday. We can spend the night alone together, with our little girl."

Jaime nodded, as Sansa took his arm and led him into their chamber, carrying the babe in her other arm. She took one of the blankets she had made Julianna and laid it in the middle of their bed before placing Julianna at it, smiling at her as she looked up at Sansa . She bent over the baby, gently kissing her forehead. "I'm going to take care of your father for a bit," she whispered, gently stroking the babe's head as she stared up at the ceiling, content to lie on the bed.

Jaime sat on the bed, beside the baby, running his hand over her little foot while Sansa drew a bath. She called to Jaime and he slowly walked into the bathing room to join her, stumbling a bit in his drunkenness. Sansa wrapped her arms around his waist, holding him tightly and resting her head against his chest. He just stood there for a while, but after a few moments, he wrapped his arms around her, rubbing his hand over her back. "You're going to be all right, Jaime. I promise you." She kissed him softly before she began to remove his clothes.

The fire in the bedchamber and the warmth of the hot water filled the room as Sansa stripped Jaime bare – even removing the golden hand - and led him to the bath, watching as he sighed deeply and closed his eyes once the water covered his skin. Sansa left him for a moment and peeked in at the baby. Her little eyes were closed and she slept peacefully. Sansa smiled to herself and re-entered the bathing room, removing her own clothes before joining Jaime in the bath.

He opened his eyes as she rested her hand on the side of his face. She wished she could magically make the pain in his eyes disappear. Sansa picked up a washcloth and gently took his hand in her own, cleaning the cuts he'd given himself.

"How did you do this?" she whispered, as she examined his injury.

"I dropped a glass." Sansa looked at him skeptically. "I may have smashed it against the wall. Is it bad?"

Sansa shook her head. "It's just a few cuts. They aren't too deep," she said with a soft smile. She moved on to washing his chest, trying to get the smell of wine off of him. She felt Jaime's arm slide around her waist as she ran the warm cloth over his skin.

"I've been thinking…when I was a little girl, I always dreamed that a brave, handsome knight would love me, and be my lord husband," she said, speaking to him quietly as she continued to bathe him. "Jaime, you are everything I could have ever wanted. Both for myself, and as a father to my daughter. There's no one I would rather have as my husband. And no one I would rather have as father to my children." Sansa hugged him tightly, resting her head on his shoulder and felt him wrap his arms around her. Her heart broke when she felt his tears against her neck. She didn't say anything, knowing there was little she could say to comfort him. So she simply held him. "I'm sorry you're hurting," she whispered, gently kissing him.

"You shouldn't have to comfort me over Cersei."

"I like taking care of you," she whispered, nuzzling against his neck. "I love you, so much, Jaime. I always will."

"I love you, too, Sansa. You know that well enough by now," he said quietly, holding her.

"I do know that," she said with a smile, resting her forehead against his after wiping away his tears. "Shall we go get in bed?" He nodded, stepping out in the tub with her and Sansa wrapped a fluffy robe around herself and then around Jaime, reaching up to dry his hair. He followed her into their bedchamber and Sansa saw that Pia had left them a tray of food while they were in the bath. Sansa moved the tray onto the bed before carefully picking up Julianna and settling into bed, under the covers, holding them open for Jaime to join her. They cuddled together under the blankets, Julianna asleep in Sansa's arms as they picked at the food Pia left for them. Sansa wasn't very hungry, but she wanted Jaime to eat.

After they ate, Sansa moved to put Julianna down, but Jaime reached to take the babe from her arms. Sansa watched as he held the baby against his chest, gently rubbing her back. "I'd do anything for the two of you," he whispered, staring down at the baby.

Sansa leaned over and kissed him. "I know that. And I'd do anything for you, Jaime." She settled back against the headboard and pillows, motioning for Jaime to lie down. He smiled and indulged her, curling up with his head resting in her lap, and the baby curled up on his chest. Sansa stroked his hair, rubbing her fingers over his scalp as he closed his eyes in pleasure. She smiled down at her family, watching her daughter sleep in Jaime's arms. She could see that Julianna felt safe with Jaime. And she saw that Jaime took comfort from the infant sleeping on his chest.

She rested her hands on him as he slept and silently prayed that this wouldn't destroy him. She wanted her smirking, playful husband back. _He'll be all right. He'll come back to me in time._

….

_Let me know what you thought…comments are much appreciated._

_Next Chapter: Jaime tells Catelyn the truth…_


	53. Chapter 53

…

Chapter 53

Sansa walked downstairs early in the morning, her guards trailing behind her. She noticed they were extra-cautious as they followed, looking around for any source of danger to her. As she passed the dining room, Sansa saw that Lady Alys was seated at the dining table, having tea and toast. She walked in and leaned down to hug the older woman who had been so kind to her since she'd arrived at Casterly Rock.

"Oh, my dear, I was so relieved to hear that you and Julianna were safe."

Sansa smiled and sat beside her, taking her hand. "I'm sorry that you had to be deceived. I hated the thought of people thinking I was dead when I was not."

Lady Alys shook her head. "I understand. We all do. And in light of what happened to poor Cersei…it seems Jaime was wise to hide you and the babe away. How does he fare?" she asked quietly.

"He's still sleeping. He wasn't…he was quite distressed last night. Holding Julianna seemed to bring him comfort."

"I'm certain you brought him comfort as well."

She nodded. "He's taking it quite hard."

"I imagine so. He and Cersei were always so close and…It is so tragic for Jaime and for poor Myrcella and little Tommen." Lady Alys dabbed at her eyes with a handkerchief and Sansa felt for her. She knew the woman cared for Cersei and had known her since she was a baby. Sansa had spent quite some time staring at the portrait of Cersei and Jaime as children, and they both seemed very sweet and innocent. Lady Alys didn't seem to know how terrible Cersei had turned out.

"One of her handmaiden's found her and…Jaime couldn't even bring himself to see her body. He refused to leave his solar. The Maester said she was strangled. I never thought Stannis Baratheon so dishonorable that he would send someone to kill you or Cersei. She was such a happy little girl growing up. The capitol changed her, of course, but…She was interred with Lord Tywin and Lady Joanna, straight away, in the crypts. Jaime insisted. I'm glad he's not alone. It's so sad that he and Tyrion are the only ones left. And Tyrion…well, who knows where he is now." Sansa patted Lady Alys's hand gently. "Would you like something to eat, my dear?"

Sansa shook her head. "No. I mean to go back upstairs soon. I don't want Jaime to be alone for very long, but I wanted to have some food sent up for us."

"Sansa, you did not have to come downstairs for that."

"I also wanted to see you," Sansa said quietly. "You've been so kind to me since I arrived here."

Lady Alys hugged her again. "I'm very glad that you are all right. Take care of Jaime. I'm here if you need anything."

Sansa smiled and left the dining room, rejoining her guards. Jaime had been sleeping when she left their bedchamber. She expected that the large amounts of alcohol he'd been drinking all night and all day yesterday was keeping him in bed. It hurt Sansa to see that Jaime was feeling such pain because of Cersei's death. Not that she was jealous, but because she hated to see Jaime in pain. He had scared her last night, he looked so broken, but she had hope after seeing how much his mood had improved when he was able to touch her and hold Julianna.

_Jaime is mine and I'm going to take care of him._ As much as he angered her at times, and had a smart mouth, he loved her and he was very sweet to her. There was nothing she would not do for him.

Sansa quietly opened the door to the bedchamber she shared with Jaime. He was still asleep and Sansa crept over to the bed, and smiled, seeing that Julianna was still asleep in her little basket. She carefully lifted the basket into her arms and moved it to a chair in front of the fire, so she would be warm. Sansa took off her gown and got back into bed with Jaime, wearing only her thin shift and began running her fingers through his hair. His arm tightened around her waist, pulling her close to him.

Sansa tilted her chin up and kissed his lips. His eyes opened and Jaime smiled softly. "Good morning, Ser Jaime," she said with a smile.

He kissed her again, leaning towards her. "Good morning," he said quietly. "My sweet, sweet little wife." She rested her hands against his chest, brushing his hair from his brow and frowning at the sadness in his eyes. "I won't…" he paused, touching his head, no doubt feeling pain in his head from the copious amounts of alcohol he'd consumed. "Don't worry, Sansa. I won't continue in this manner. She's forgotten."

Sansa shook her head, kissing his temples and stroking his hair. "I don't expect you to forget her. But…I don't want you to hurt or feel guilty," she finished with a whisper.

Jaime kissed her. "Give me a little time." She nodded. "Where's the babe?"

"Sleeping in front of the fire." She slowly ran her hands over his chest. "I thought we could lie here alone for a while, until some food is brought up from the kitchens."

She could see interest in his eyes, behind the sadness. "I thought it was too soon," he murmured, twirling her hair around his finger.

She blushed brightly, looking down. "It is for…_that_…but…" she leaned forward and kissed him, softly at first, and then teasing his mouth with her tongue until he opened his mouth to her. She shyly slid her hand down his body, closing her hand around his length, smiling as she felt him beginning to harden.

"Sansa…" he gasped, burying his face against her neck. Since Julianna was born, they had only kissed and cuddled, usually with the baby in their laps, but she knew that a little bit of physical intimacy would comfort him. "So you'd like me to treat you as if you were a maiden?" She could hear the amusement in his voice and was glad that she was able to brighten his mood, even if it was at the expense of her sensibilities.

She giggled as he rolled her onto her back and stared into her eyes for a long time before reaching his hand to her face. "You're so beautiful and…you care for me so much. I don't deserve you."

She tilted her head and kissed him. "Of course you do. You care for me as much as I do for you."

"That I do. I'd do anything for you," he whispered, burying his face against her neck, first just breathing heavily and then he began to kiss and suck on her neck. "I love you." She knew he was trying to mark her – it was something he enjoyed doing though it had embarrassed her a few times when his little love marks were visible to others who had smiled at her knowingly.

Sansa felt his hand roaming over her body and pushed against him, coaxing him onto his back. "Let me love you…and make you feel good," she whispered, before covering his body with her own.

They spent the morning kissing and touching, cuddled up in each other's arms until Julianna began crying for their attention. It appeared to Sansa that she had managed to lift her husband's spirits a bit. Or at the very least, to distract him.

They spent the entire day in their bedchamber with their baby. Jaime was still exhausted from his days of not sleeping, and when Julianna was ready for a nap, Jaime had curled up on the bed with her while Sansa worked on her sewing by the fire, her chair turned so she could glance over at her family every now and then. _My family_, she thought, as she watched them sleep. _Nothing can take them from me now._

…

Jaime woke up alone, his head pounding. He looked around the room and realized that Sansa must have taken the babe and allowed him to continue sleeping. It had been a week since Cersei's death and Jaime had not left the rooms he shared with Sansa. After Cersei's death, he'd spent the next night and day in his solar drinking until he was able to dull the pain.

Jaime had been exhausted and miserable when Sansa came to him in his solar. As much as he did not want her to see him in such a pathetic state, seeing her was like a breath of air to a suffocating man. She'd touched him gently and bathed him and fed him. It had always been difficult for Jaime to allow others to see his vulnerabilities. But with Sansa, it was a comfort to see her and for her to hold him. Once he had held their baby and rested his head in Sansa's lap, he had felt safe and calm for the first time since he held Cersei's dead body in his arms.

It was difficult for him to think about his twin. It was thinking about her that had caused him to sweep everything off his desk and to smash the wine glass in his hand. He never thought that he would live when she didn't. And he certainly never thought that she would die by his hand.

He wished that Tyrion were here and still had love for him. He felt guilty that Sansa had to bear the entire burden of comforting him. She had been very loving and patient for the past week, lounging in bed with him and letting him kiss her and hold her for hours when he needed to forget his pain. As much as he wished to make love to her, it was far too soon after she had birthed the baby. Though he readily accepted the physical affection she could offer him.

Jaime dragged himself out of bed, dressing and going into the nursery, seeking out Sansa. He was surprised to see Lady Catelyn there, holding the baby, rather than Sansa. "Mother Stark, I had not thought to see you here this morning."

Lady Catelyn regarded him cautiously. "Sansa went downstairs to take care of a small matter with your steward. She'll be right back. You needn't worry, her guards went with her." Jaime nodded. "She's quite good natured," she murmured, looking down at the babe in her arms.

"Despite her paternity," Jaime said with a knowing smile. "With any luck, she'll take after her mother."

"She already does. In looks and temperament." He watched Lady Catelyn stroke the baby's leg, no doubt remembering when Sansa was a babe in arms. "Sansa means quite a lot to you, doesn't she?"

"If she had been killed…it would have been the death of me as well," he whispered. "And she and the babe have been a great comfort since Cersei…" He looked away, gazing out the window, only looking back when he felt Lady Catelyn's eyes on him.

She met his eyes. "Despite what we've been told about the queen's death…I can imagine what actually happened." Jaime shifted uncomfortably, sitting in the chair opposite Lady Catelyn, unable to focus on anything but the babe in her arms. _I did what I had to, so my daughter could grow up safe._ He was surprised when she placed the baby in his arms. "I know that…you did what was necessary to protect Sansa. And to protect the little one," she said, nodding toward the baby.

Jaime looked down in shame. No matter the reason, he couldn't feel good about having killed his sister. "What you speak of is dishonorable. Even to save Sansa's life. You know that. Eddard Stark would certainly would disapprove of such an action. Despite my duty to Sansa. And to her," he finished with a whisper, shifting the baby in his arms so she could rest her head against his chest, which he knew comforted the babe.

"I know anything you did was to protect Sansa. And your daughter. I would never disapprove of that. Perhaps now you understand the love that a parent has for a child. Perhaps now you understand doing anything to protect them, and not allowing anyone to dare harm them." He nodded as Julianna closed her eyes, resting against him. "Perhaps now you understand why I cannot rest until I know how my son, Bran, fell from that tower. You do know what happened to him, don't you?"

Jaime looked down at the babe in his arms, and knew that if someone had harmed her – if she'd suffered a fall as the Stark child had – Jaime would not rest until he found out what happened to her. "Perhaps I do," he said quietly.

"How did he fall?"

"I pushed him."

…

_I know, I know, that was a cruel place to end it. Obviously, Jaime and Catelyn will continue their conversation in the next chapter…and where is Sansa?_

_And in a couple of chapters, more residents of Westeros will make their appearance – either in person or by raven. As always, thank you for all of the reviews. The feedback is appreciated._


	54. Chapter 54

_I updated a little faster because of the cliffhanger...enjoy._

...

Chapter 54

…

_How did he fall?_

_I pushed him._

Lady Catelyn gasped, surprised at his admission. No doubt she thought he would lie to her. But Jaime was tired of lies. Lies were what had destroyed House Lannister. Lies about Tyrion's marraige. Lies about Jaime's relationship with Cersei. Lies about the paternity of her children. This was the last lie – the last secret – that Jaime had, and for some reason, he wanted to get rid of it.

"Why? Why would you push him? He was just a child."

"He saw something he should not have seen. I had but a moment to make a choice and…I chose those I cared about over a child that meant nothing to me."

"He saw you with the Queen, didn't he?"

He could hear the disgust in her voice and saw the tears forming in her eyes as he nodded. "I do…I regret harming him. Though I'm not certain what I could have done differently. If he had told anyone…"

Jaime did wish he could take back what he'd done to Sansa's brother – even more now that he cared for Sansa as he did. Yet, he also knew that if he had not acted, the child easily could have been the death of he, Cersei and the children. He had always been a man of impulse, but even now, having had years to think of other ways to be certain of the boy's silence…he could not think of one.

"Does Sansa know?"

"She knows about my relationship with Cersei, if that's what you're asking."

"No," she said in a hard voice. He could see both sadness and anger in her gaze. He imagined she might indulge her desire to strike him were he not holding Julianna in his arms. He could see she was refraining from screaming at him - no doubt to avoid scaring the babe. "Does Sansa know you tried to kill her brother?"

"No. I've tried to tell her. More than once, but…she didn't wish to hear. She doesn't want to hear anything about my past. She says that she only cares about our future and the life we've made together."

"How convenient for you."

Jaime chuckled bitterly. "As a matter of fact, it's been rather inconvenient. Sansa says she doesn't wish to know. She won't ask questions, even when I want her to. She silences me anytime I try to speak of the man I was before her. Which has left me waiting for the moment that she finds out and…her love for me turns to hate, despite her words. I suppose now my waiting is over, once you tell her." He looked down at the babe in his arms, hating the thought of losing the bond he had formed with her.

"You don't deserve her," Lady Catelyn said angrily. "You don't deserve Sansa and you don't deserve the child you hold in your arms."

"I know that." Jaime expected Sansa to hate him when she learned what he'd done, despite her words about the past not mattering. He supposed he'd always known that he would lose her eventually. And losing Sansa likely meant losing his daughter as well. His biggest fear was that Sansa wouldn't allow him near Julianna once she knew. Jaime gently brushed his fingers over the fine red hair on the baby's head, trying to memorize every detail while he could.

"I know that I don't deserve Sansa. And that I don't deserve a daughter as perfect as the one she gave me." He raised his eyes to Lady Catelyn's. "But I certainly mean to keep them both."

"You think you can? You think Sansa will still love you, knowing what you've done?" There was a challenge in her voice, and Jaime had little doubt that, in her anger, she meant to tear he and Sansa apart. As punishment for what he did to her son.

"You wouldn't harm only me, if you told her. Surely even you can admit how much it would harm her. Not only to hear it, but…to lose someone else that she loves." He could see in her face that she knew he spoke the truth.

Jaime looked down at the babe in his arms, meeting her glittering eyes. _I suppose I deserve to lose my little one, now that I've orphaned Tommen and Myrcella._ "If it's any consolation to you, the gods saw fit to take the hand that pushed your son from that tower. As well as the hand that slew the Mad King." Jaime looked at the golden hand, which had replaced his sword hand. "When Vargo Hoat cut off my hand, he took the source of my glory and my shame, all at once."

"You believe that makes up for the suffering you caused my son?"

"No. I've done what's possible to atone for my sins against your family. Giving your daughters a safe home and making it possible for you to be with them again. I don't know what else I can offer you, other than my pledge to ensure that your daughters stay happy and safe. Both Sansa and Arya. I have done all that I could to see to their comfort."

He watched as Lady Catelyn looked down at her hands, considering his words. Jaime saw movement in the doorway to the nursery and saw Sansa enter.

"Mother, thank you for watching her." Her eyes quickly moved between the both of them before she gently took the baby from Jaime's arms, hushing her as she began to fuss. Jaime watched her and wondered if that was the last time he would hold his daughter, as he waited for Lady Catelyn to tell Sansa what a monster he was.

Lady Catelyn immediately rose to her feet. "I should leave the two of you alone," she said stiffly. Jaime watched her leave in surprise, seeing that she was blinking back tears as she hurried from the room.

"Is everything all right?" Sansa asked quietly, sitting down next to him. The babe began to whine and nose against her breasts. He watched as Sansa unlaced her gown so she could nurse the baby. He watched as his daughter suckled at Sansa's breast and wondered why Catelyn had not said anything to Sansa about his most shameful act. He met his wife's eyes and saw that she was watching him carefully – no doubt fearing that he would fall apart as he had more than once in the week since Cersei's death.

"I'm…I'm all right. Better. Because of you." Jaime was gripped by fear at the thought that he could lose Sansa at any moment. "I love you more than anything," he whispered, kissing her cheek. "Both of you," he murmured, running his finger over the babe's cheek as she nursed. Jaime saw Sansa watching him gently touch the baby and he smiled, skimming his finger over Sansa's breast and up into her hair, leaning forward and kissing her full on the mouth. Knowing she could be taken from him in an instant made him want to enjoy every moment in her presence.

"Arya has asked if you'll practice with her again," Sansa began quietly, his forehead resting against hers. "I think it would do you good to spend time with her."

"Being with you does me good," he said quietly, smiling as he took her hand, hoping that it wasn't for the last time.

She smiled, her eyes fixed on the baby. "I'll be here when you return. You've not left our rooms in over a week. It's not good for you be locked away all the time."

Jaime knew she spoke the truth. As much as he wanted to drink in every moment he had with her and the babe - he knew he could not follow her around forever. And truthfully, he was tired of thier rooms. And he missed Sansa's bratty little sister. She was right. It would do him good to get out and get some practice in. Jaime leaned in and kissed her before leaving the nursery.

He leaned against the wall outside the door and closed his eyes, doing his best to chase away the images he conjured up of Sansa looking at him with hate, not love. He remembered her reaction when she'd learned about he and Cersei – the disgust in her eyes and the way she wouldn't even allow him to touch her. Jaime didn't believe that he could take Sansa going back to treating him with the formality of an arranged marriage with a man she felt nothing for. Or worse, a man she hated.

….

After Jaime left, Sansa leaned back in her chair, feeling her face crumble as she looked down at her baby. Her hands began to shake and she felt tears well in her eyes.

"_If it's any consolation to you, the gods saw fit to take the hand that pushed your son from that tower."_

Jaime's words echoed in her mind and tore at her heart. She had not meant to overhear Jaime's conversation with her mother, but she had also not wanted to interrupt, hoping that they were able to put the past behind them. How wrong she was. She had never dreamed that she would hear him confess to crippling her brother. Sansa watched as a tear fell on the baby's arm, and Sansa quickly wiped it away and wiped her eyes.

_Perhaps I should tell Jaime what I heard._

Sansa ruled that out almost as soon as the thought popped into her head. He was still hurting over what happened with Cersei. No matter what he'd done in the past, she knew he was still fragile.

And, selfishly, she was afraid of her own reaction if she uttered the words aloud. She was afraid of what she would say - of the horrible words that might fall from her mouth. Sansa thought it would destroy her if she were to lose the love she and Jaime shared. Not that she would have any choice about being with him. She was his wife. That woudl not change. He could keep her with him as long as he wished. Technically, she was his property, as was the babe. But Sansa didn't want that sort of marriage. She looked down at her baby and began to cry.

She knew that Jaime loved both her and their baby. And she believed that he regretted what he had done to Bran. That he regretted many things he'd done in the past. She recalled the times he had tried to speak to her about things he had done in the past and she had hushed him, refusing to hear it. Now she had a good idea what he had been trying to tell her about. Though, she supposed, she always suspected the Lannisters had something to do with Bran's fall.

_You forgave him. You forgave him for everything that happened before you came into his life. _Sansa nodded to herself, forcing herself to stop crying. She did forgive him. She didn't want to dwell on the past.

She wasn't blind to the fear in his expression when she had entered the nursery. No doubt he expected her mother to announce his sins to her. Sansa had expected her to do so as well, and dreaded it. She wondered why her mother had not told her. She did seem about to cry herself - perhaps she could not utter the words.

_I hope she does not tell me. She'll expect me to hate Jaime as she does._

She wondered if she was weak and selfish to continue to love Jaime after all of the terrible things he had done in the past. She knew his sins had far-reaching consequences. That his actions had begun the hostilities between their families and that many had died because of it. _He has changed. I know he has. He's not that same man._

Sansa wiped her tears again and looked down at her babe – the babe she and Jaime had made together and knew that she had to find a way to forget - and move past - what she had heard. Not only for herself and for Jaime, but for the innocent little baby in her arms. She just didn't know how.

...

_So...we'll see how this goes. I think the whole pushing Bran thing is a huge obstacle to most Jaime/Sansa fanfics, but I also think that she needs to know, and not just live her life with him blissfully ignorant of the past. For all his faults, Jaime is a painfully honest man who would not lie when asked a direct question. While Sansa is much less confrontational and, I think, would keep this in and deal with it on her own. __Let me know what you thought of the chapter._

_Next chapter: Sansa struggles to be Jaime's wife, despite knowing what he's done_


	55. Chapter 55

Chapter 55

Sansa had barely been able to hold back her tears when her mother left her alone with Jaime, and she was glad that he followed her suggestion of going downstairs to resume his practice with Arya. She was sincere when she said that he should not stay cooped up in their chambers all the time. But she was also grateful for the time alone to gather her thoughts and get her emotions under control after hearing his confession to her mother. She had finished feeding the baby, and then carried her into Jaime's solar, knowing that no one would bother her there, or walk in uninvited. She settled on the sofa with the babe in her arms, the fire roaring, and thought about every moment she and Jaime had spent together.

She thought about the night he returned to King's Landing, when she had been enduring another beating by Ser Meryn, at the direction of Joffrey. Even now, a year later, she felt her face heat in shame at the memory. When Jaime had walked in and seen, Sansa had been humiliated and horrified that yet another man would see her naked and so degraded. But he had not looked at her body. He had removed his cloak and put it around her shoulders, covering her - protecting her.

She thought about how he had held her tightly in his arms all night after telling her about Robb's death. He'd let her cry and cry, as he offered her comfort. She thought about how excited he had been to learn that she carried Julianna. How carefully he had treated her and how he devoted himself to her safety.

Jaime may have harmed Bran all those months and months ago – but he'd done so much to make up for it since. He'd done so much to take care of her, and her sister, and her mother. She knew full well that Jaime did not have to reunite her with her family. He may have harmed Bran to protect Cersei – but he had killed her to protect Sansa and their baby.

Sansa played with the baby as she thought about how, little by little, from the moment Jaime put his woolen cloak over her naked and beaten body, she had come to trust him. And then she had come to love him. She didn't want to think about what might have become of her if it weren't for Jaime. _And he never expected anything from me in return. He's never asked me for anything. _

Sansa smiled at Julianna lying across her lap and lifted her into her arms, cuddling the babe who nuzzled against her neck. _She's so perfect. And I wouldn't have her if it weren't for Jaime._ She knew that she wouldn't do anything differently. She firmly believed that she and Jaime were meant to be together. They were meant to marry and have this baby. Despite that, Sansa gave into her desire to cry.

_I can't let him know that I heard what he said. It would hurt him too much._

Sansa was not alone for very long, as Jaime returned and found her in his solar after a couple of hours. By then, Sansa was stretched out on the sofa with the babe fast asleep in her arms. She could see that it had done him some good to spend time with Arya and get some exercise. There was color in his cheeks and life in his eyes. But, he was far from being himself. She hoped he would not be able to tell that she had been crying, and avoided his eyes.

"How are my girls?" he asked, kneeling beside her and kissing her forehead.

Sansa smiled. "We're well. You're back soon."

He nodded, gently petting the babe so as not to wake her. "Arya was excited to show me what she's learned, practicing with Ser Addam this week. Did you ask him to work with her?"

She nodded. "She was driving me crazy, asking to see you, but…I didn't think that you were up to it." As she spoke, and remembered how broken he had been over the past week, and her resolve steadied. _I'm doing the right thing. _

"You are…an angel," he murmured, gazing at her with unmistakable love. "Are you all right?"

"Of course. Why wouldn't I be?" _Gods…what am I doing that he knows I'm upset? How can I keep this up for the rest of my life?_

He shook his head. "I don't know…You seem distracted."

"I just…Lady Alys and I were discussing the provisions we've collected for winter, and…my mind is spinning a bit."

He looked as if he didn't quite believe her, she quickly looked down at the baby, lightly tracing her fingers over his hand, where it rested on the babe, smiling sadly as he turned his hand over and threaded his fingers through hers. She knew he was afraid that she would find out about Bran and hate him. She wanted to reassure him, but she wasn't sure how. He kissed the top of her head and stood, heading into their bedchamber to bathe.

Sansa tucked her feet under her body and wished there was someone she could talk to. But she didn't want Roslin or Arya to know what Jaime had done. They didn't love him as she did and she feared what they would think of him. And he and Arya had finally arrived at a place where they were friends. She saw that Arya was beginning to see Jaime as another brother, even if she would never admit it. Sansa didn't want to spoil that.

_I can bear this alone. For Jaime and Arya and the babe…it's worth it._

….

That night, when she climbed into bed, Sansa decided she wanted to hold her baby in her arms. Sansa normally didn't sleep holding Julianna – that was something Jaime did – but she wanted the comfort of her little girl snuggling against her. She felt as if the weight of the world was on her shoulders and she still wondered if she should say something to Jaime about what she had heard.

She wished that he didn't need her as much as he did right now. But Jaime was still dealing with what he'd had to do to Cersei. Sansa wished that he was in a better state of mind. She wished that he could be strong for her. So she could cry and yell and he could comfort her and tell her everything would be all right. _He's been strong for me so many times in the past. I can be strong for him now._

Sansa felt movement behind her on the bed and knew Jaime was not asleep as she had hoped. It had been difficult for him to sleep since Cersei's death, though he would lie there and hold her until he eventually drifted off. She felt him move closer to her, kissing the back of her neck as he molded his body behind hers, and slung his arm over her to touch the baby, rubbing her back as she scrunched her little legs under her body and burrowed against Sansa's breasts.

She turned her head and he immediately covered her mouth with his own. She was surprised by the passion in his kiss, and closed her eyes, enjoying the feel of his mouth against hers.

"I could hold the two of you in my arms forever. I'd give anything to make the world stop, right now, as we are," he whispered against her. "Sansa?"

"Yes?"

"You know I've done terrible things in the past." Sansa felt a knot form in her stomach as he spoke. "Before I met you, I did many things I wish I could take back…that I'm ashamed of…I wish you'd come into my life sooner."

Sansa carefully shifted so that she was facing Jaime, the tiny babe still curled up against her breasts. She reached out and rested her hand on the side of Jaime's face. "If you'd met me sooner…known me sooner…you would not have been ready to have me in your life. You wouldn't have loved me. You'd have thought me a silly little girl, not worthy of your time." He smiled, no doubt knowing she spoke the truth. "Everything that's happened, all the bad things…and the bad things that have happened to us…that's what brought us together, Jaime."

He nodded. "I would like to go back. Knowing what I know now…I could spare you so much pain. So much fear." He touched her so much with his words. _He really has become a good man. A man who deserves to be loved._

Sansa knew what he'd done to Bran was a terrible thing. A thing the man lying beside her would never do. She knew that. And she knew if he could erase it – if he could take it back – he would. She slid her hand to the back of his neck, pulling him towards her and she kissed him softly. "My beautiful girls," he murmured. The babe squeaked in protest when Sansa shifted toward Jaime, and they both smiled. Jaime leaned down and kissed the top of the baby's head.

"We can't change the past, Jaime. No matter how much we might want to. And we can't dwell on it either." Sansa truly meant what she said, and hoped it would ease his mind, though her heart still ached. "Get some sleep, Jaime," she whispered, smiling as he moved close, protectively curling his body around she and Julianna.

Sansa closed her eyes, but she couldn't fall asleep. She fervently wished that she had taken longer to come upstairs, and had not overheard Jaime's conversation with her mother. She had long ago forgiven Jaime for all that he had done before her – whether she knew the details or not. But actually hearing that he had tried to kill Bran…was difficult to swallow. She silently prayed to the seven that she would be able to move past this, and forget what she heard.

….

Jaime stretched as he began to wake. It was the first night that he had not been startled awake by dreams of Cersei as she died or flashes of Sansa crumpled on the floor of the nursery. He looked over at Sansa, who was still fast asleep, the babe in her basket between them.

The babe was awake and considering what was going on around her and looking at Jaime, her eyes scanning his face. Jaime smiled, lifting her into his arms and getting out of bed, careful not to wake Sansa. He sat in one of the chairs in front of the fire with the babe in the crook of his arm. He took in her perfect little features and knew she'd grow to look just like her mother.

She began to fuss a little, and he offered her his finger, which she began to suck on. He smiled as she began to make her little purring noises, content to be held in his arms. She continued to stare up at him. She was curious about her surroundings and Jaime and Sansa had noticed that she was always looking around and would stare at them for quite some time as if she were memorizing their features. _I love her so much._

"You, my little lioness are going to have a happy life. With a mother and father who love you desperately. Since before you were born, I have imagined how happy your childhood will be – growing up here at the Rock with us." Jaime swallowed the lump in his throat as he continued whispering to the babe. "Before your mother came into my life, I wasn't a good man. I did unspeakable things. Things I can never take back. Things, I fear, your mother would not be able to forgive." He gazed at his daughter and was gripped by the fear of losing her. "I love you, little one. And I'm terrified of losing our little family." The babe whined and Jaime moved her so her front was curled against his chest. "Should we ever be parted," he whispered, "I'll always love you and protect you. Always."

"You're not going to be parted from her or from me," Sansa whispered from behind him. "Not ever, Jaime."

Jaime turned and met her gaze, seeing her eyes were filled with tears. "I didn't know you were awake…why are you crying?"

Sansa slowly walked close to him, taking the babe in her arms and placing her, blanket and all, on the fur in front of the fire before climbing onto Jaime's lap and hugging him tightly. Jaime held her just as tight, taking comfort from the feel of her in his arms.

"I meant it when I said that the past doesn't matter to me. You're not going to lose me over something that happened before we even knew each other," she whispered against his neck. _She couldn't possibly know._ Jaime began to panic, thinking that Lady Stark had told Sansa what he'd done. "Don't be afraid," she said quietly, stroking the back of his neck. "Everything between us is fine. You have no reason to fear losing me or the babe. That's not going to happen."

Jaime moved back, wanting to see her eyes, but she had her face turned away from him, trying to avoid his gaze, and Jaime realized she'd barely looked him in the eye at all the day before. Jaime reached for her, turning her face back, and forcing her to look at him. He looked in her eyes, and saw fear there.

"You know don't you?" he whispered, shame overcoming him.

She tried to avoid his gaze again, shaking her head no. "There's nothing to know, Jaime. It's in the past." He could see she was terrified of hurting him. Terrified of saying the words aloud – of making it real. But she knew.

"If there's nothing…why are you so afraid?"

Sansa reached for him, resting her hands on his cheeks, her fingers lightly tracing over his face. "I…you've been through so much the past week Jaime. I won't let anything hurt you."

"You've been through quite a lot as well, Sansa…you almost died not that long ago. You…you needn't treat me like one of your delicate little teacups. I'm supposed to take care of you." He watched as she bit her lip uncertainly. "You know don't you? About –"

She stopped him before he could say the words. "I know," she said, so quietly that he could barely hear her.

"Did she tell you?"

Sansa shook her head, looking down at her lap as she tangled her fingers in his. "I heard you and mother talking…I wish I hadn't heard…"

Jaime took a deep breath and felt his stomach drop, as her eyes misted with tears again. He opened his mouth to apologize to her, but Sansa covered his mouth with her hand. "You don't have to say anything, Jaime. You don't. I forgave for everything long ago. You have…your kindness to me and to my sister, the way you've protected me…you've done all you could to make up for the past. It's all right." She was crying by now and Jaime hesitantly took her in his arms, half expecting her to push him away.

"I'm sorry," he murmured, stroking her hair. "I'm sorry I wasn't a better man before you. I understand if…this changes things between us," he began hesitantly.

She looked up at him in alarm. "No," she said urgently. "This doesn't change anything. It's far too late for that. My heart is not my own anymore. It's yours. Nothing could change how I feel about you. How much I love you," she finished with a whisper. "We belong together," she said, hugging him tightly. "We're going to take care of each other."

He exhaled shakily in relief and she must have noticed, because she kissed him softly. He didn't realize there were tears in his eyes until she began to wipe them away. "I was afraid of losing you," he said quietly, looking over at Julianna happily lying in front of the fire. "And losing her. I never meant to deceive you. I did try –"

"I know you did, Jaime."

"How can you not hesitate to forgive me?" He had expected that she would at least be angry with him and shut him out for a time.

Sansa sighed, leaning against his chest. "I forgave both of us a long time ago." She glanced over at the babe. "For her."

"What do you have to be forgiven for?"

"I…I felt very guilty when were first together. I felt guilty for taking such comfort in your arms. And for sharing your bed. And then…for loving you. After all that the Lannisters did to the Starks…I wondered if it was wrong of me to love you as I did. But I had to forgive myself." She reached up and touched his face. "And I had to forgive you. I knew that I couldn't punish you for your past…for things that you did before we even met, if we were ever going to be happy. And I did forgive you. I realized…I realized there was nothing you could have done that would make me not wish to be with you. Perhaps that makes me weak."

"You know I need you just as much, don't you? That I'm just as weak, when it comes to you."

She nodded her head, gently stroking the back of his neck. "I know. I could see how afraid you were. And you were already so vulnerable because of…" She stopped, but he knew she meant because of Cersei. "Come here," she said, sniffling and rising to her feet and taking his hand, pulling him with her as she sunk to the ground on the fur beside Julianna. "She's ours, Jaime. We made her and we're going to make certain that she is happy and healthy. I don't regret anything that gave her to us."

_I don't deserve her. I don't deserve her forgiveness._ He wrapped his arm around her shoulders, kissing the top of her head. "I love you," he murmured, smiling as the babe began squeaking for Sansa and she took her into her arms. "I love my girls," he murmured, settling more comfortably onto the fur, leaning against the sofa behind him.

Sansa settled herself between his legs, leaning against his chest as she opened the front of her nightdress and the babe eagerly began to suckle at her breast, her happy purring sounds reaching Jaime's ears. Sansa leaned her head back against his shoulder and Jaime lowered his head to her neck, kissing her gently as he watched their babe, her little eyes staring up at them as she suckled.

"Anything I can do to repay you for your forgiveness…"

He felt her take his hand and pull it around her body, until both of their hands were beneath Julianna, holding her. "There's nothing you need do, but love me and our little girl. And I know you do. I already lost one family," she said quietly. "I can't lose another."

Jaime fought the tears that threatened at her words. _I can't lose another family, either._

…

_Let me know what you thought. This was a difficult chapter to write, because the situation and the feelings between them are so complicated at this point. Yes, he's done horrible things in the past – he's hurt her family – but he's also been a loving, protective husband to her for about a year and I think it would break Sansa to lose this relationship at this point._

_As always, thank you for the comments and reviews – I enjoy the feedback, and it helps with the writing._

_Next chapter: Sansa fears her mother bringing up what Jaime did to Bran and a letter is received from the Wall…_


	56. Chapter 56

_There's a bit of a time jump since the last chapter – not much, just a month. _

…

Chapter 56

Sansa stood, largely hidden from view, watching Jaime and Arya sparring. They had moved their practice into one of the massive hallways of the castle a few weeks earlier, since it was becoming far too cold for them to spar on the practice grounds, even when they lit the many firepits that heated it in times of winter. Sansa knew that she should object, and stop Jaime from encouraging Arya's unladylike behavior, but she didn't have the heart to do so. The past weeks had been difficult for Jaime and she knew he enjoyed his time with her little sister, though Sansa never imagined that would be so.

It had now been more than a month since Cersei's death and, little by little, Jaime had begun to return to his old self, though she knew still felt guilt over having to kill her. He had stopped wallowing in his grief, and was leaving their chambers every day and going about his normal routine, due to her encouragement and Arya's insistence that he continue her lessons. Several mornings Arya had even shown up in their bedchamber and all but dragged Jaime off to practice with her.

Sansa could also see that his confession to her mother weighed on him as well. Lady Catelyn had taken to her room for several days afterward. She claimed a slight cold, but Sansa knew she couldn't bear to face anyone. Certainly Jaime and Sansa more than any others. But after a few days, her mother reappeared. Jaime and Lady Catelyn had not spoken a word to each other since their conversation in the nursery. At least not that Sansa had seen. They studiously avoided one another and her mother never mentioned his name to Sansa. And she had not told her what he'd done.

Now, as she watched her husband and sister, Sansa held Julianna, whose eyes glittered with interest as she watched her father and aunt practice their sword-fighting. She was almost nine weeks old and everything was interesting to her – especially whatever Jaime was doing. Whenever he was in the same room as her, Julianna's eyes would follow him, studying his every move. When he noticed her gaze, and met her eyes, her face would light up with a huge smile.

Sansa sensed someone standing beside her and smiled nervously when she saw it was her mother. It was a bit awkward between them, but she hoped that would not last forever. Lady Catelyn was intently watching the sparring match. Sansa had caught her watching Jaime and Arya practice quite a few times, with a concerned expression on her face. She knew that her mother was thinking about Jaime pushing Bran from the tower at Winterfell, as she watched his obviously affectionate relationship with Arya.

Sansa had to admit, she herself was terrified that her mother would try to tell her what Jaime had done – having no idea that Sansa already knew and had forgiven him. She knew that her response probably would not be what her mother wanted from her and she didn't want there to be another rift between them over her love for her husband. It had been so difficult before when she and Lady Catelyn were on bad terms because of her marriage to Jaime and she feared a return to that state. She also worried about how Jaime and her mother would live under the same roof, though they had done a good job of avoiding one another.

Though, Lady Catelyn did not avoid Sansa. She frequently sat with she and Julianna – sometimes with Roslin and her babe, Bethany, joining them. She seemed to enjoy the time with her granddaughter and she and Sansa would talk about the babe and how she was growing and changing. But, Sansa could not figure out why her mother had not told her what Jaime had done to Bran.

"She enjoys watching them," her mother observed, noting Julianna's happy expression as her eyes followed Jaime, Arya and their swords.

Sansa nodded. "Her eyes always light up when she sees Jaime. He's a good father to her. I would not have thought that a warrior like Jaime would be so content to play with a baby girl," she said quietly. Sansa held her breath, waiting for her mother's response.

"He clearly cares for her. And for you." Though her words were kind, there was an edge to her voice. No doubt the words were difficult, given what she knew. "Are you…you're still happy in this marriage?"

Sansa finally tore her eyes away from Jaime. "Yes, mother. His conduct towards me has always been…he has treated me as you always said you wished my lord husband would treat me. I've been very fortunate in my marriage."

She felt her mother run her hand over her hair, as she did when she was a little girl. Sansa closed her eyes, enjoying the feel of her mother stroking her hair. "Marriage is…it means accepting your partner's faults. It wasn't always perfect for your father and I but…I grew to love him very much. Even when I felt betrayed, it didn't change that he was my husband. My duty was to him, no matter what. He was my family. Though, our marriage would have been easier without the hurt, no doubt. Sometimes, I wished that I never knew about-"

She stopped abruptly and Sansa knew that her mother was thinking about Jon Snow and how her father had betrayed her with whatever woman was his mother. When she was a little girl, Sansa did not understand that her mother saw Jon Snow as a living reminder of her husband's betrayal. She did not understand why her mother disliked him so. She was never as close to him as Arya and Robb were, but she considered him to be another sibling. It was only once she was older that Sansa understood why her mother treated him as she did.

Hearing her mother's words to her now, Sansa had a good idea why she had not told her about Jaime hurting Bran. Though it must cause her tremendous pain, she understood that Lady Catelyn didn't want to make marriage more difficult for Sansa, as her own had been because of Jon's presence at Winterfell. She imagined her mother was trying to spare her the pain.

Sansa smiled as Julianna squealed in delight, continuing to watch Jaime and Arya. In truth, it was Julianna that made it easy for Sansa to forgive Jaime completely. The babe in her arms loved Jaime so much. Sansa could see how safe the infant felt with Jaime. He was better at soothing her when she cried than even Sansa. He would hold Julianna in his arms and speak quietly to her and she would immediately calm, her teary green eyes fastened on Jaime's as if he were her entire world. Their small daughter needed Jaime as much as Sansa did.

"I saw the way he looked at you when she was born," Lady Catelyn said, interrupting Sansa's thoughts. "And the way you looked at him – the strength that his presence gave you. It wasn't easy for me to see you rely on him in that way but…I knew then that I didn't have to worry for you. I knew that you would be safe in the world, if you and I were ever to be separated again. I knew that he would protect you as…as your father always did."

Her mother's voice broke at the last words and Sansa felt tears welling in her eyes and was grateful for the darkness of winter. The sun rose less and less often – sometimes several days would pass without any daylight, and they had taken to lighting the castle with torches and limiting the rooms they heated and occupied to conserve firewood.

"I know that he's your family," her mother whispered as she gently stroked the babe's hair, as she had Sansa's. "Your little one deserves a father. A family."

"I understand how difficult it has been for you to accept him as my husband, mother. And I know…you're trying to make it easier. For me."

"It is for you. Not for him." Her eyes drifted to Jaime and then back to the baby. "I knew him when he was a boy. When I was not much older than you. He was often sent to Riverrun…or, summoned, rather, by my father. He fancied to have him as Lysa's husband. We got along quite well back then. He was very mischievous. He could always make me laugh."

Sansa was genuinely curious to hear about her mother's friendship with Jaime when they were young. "He's not so different now," Sansa said quietly. "He says…shocking things sometimes. I think just to get a reaction from me."

Her mother nodded, watching Jaime and Arya. "I suppose King's Landing changed him as it changed so many others. It certainly changed my sister." Sansa heard her mother sigh. "And, perhaps the North and so many years with your father changed me as well. The harshness of the North does make one less carefree."

Sansa could see that the conversation was difficult for her mother. She hugged Sansa and squeezed the baby's hand before leaving to return to her chamber, no doubt, and Sansa stayed where she was, watching as Arya and Jaime each took a cup of water and sat on a long bench in the hallway, their practice finished for the day.

"Do you like it here, at the Rock?" Sansa watched, curious, as Jaime spoke to her sister.

Arya nodded. "I'm glad to be with mother and Sansa again. But, I miss father and…my brothers."

"I expect you miss the North as well?"

"I do…though now that winter is here, it's not that different."

"What would you do with your brothers? Sansa said you spent more time with them than with her, but she didn't know what sort of mischief you were getting into."

Sansa could see Arya's soft smile, despite the dim lighting, and listened as she spoke of hunting trips with Robb, Jon and Theon and her proud tales of being more skilled at archery than Bran. Sansa closed her eyes as she listened to her sister speak, and she could almost see Winterfell. Almost imagine that was where they were.

"Were you close to Bran?" she heard Jaime ask. _Why is he torturing himself like this?_

Arya nodded. "I was closest to Jon but…Bran and I were almost the same age and…he would have liked to go with us to King's Landing. He was supposed to. Before his accident." Arya looked up at Jaime. "Bran would have liked to know you. He always wanted to be a knight of the Kingsguard. He'd be very jealous that I get to train with you every day."

Jaime struggled with the lump in his throat at her words and Sansa felt her own eyes tear, knowing that if things had been different, Bran might be there with them right now, practicing with Jaime and Arya.

"Arya…I'm sorry for all that my family has cost you. And all that I have cost you. I know there's little I can do to make up for it. Both you and Sansa were there when your father died and…I wish neither of you had to see that. And…" He took a deep breath and Sansa imagined he would address their brothers in some way, but to both Jaime and Sansa's surprise, Arya leaned against Jaime, crying against his chest as he hesitantly returned her embrace.

"Thank you for protecting me and my sister. Thank you for protecting her from Joffrey," she whispered.

Sansa waited until Arya had moved away from Jaime and stopped crying to make her presence known, shifting the baby in her arms as she walked toward them. Jaime smiled at Julianna who smiled brightly back. Arya immediately grabbed the babe from Sansa's arms, carrying her around.

Jaime beckoned her over as he leaned back against the wall, remaining on the bench. Sansa walked toward him and he slid his hand around the back of her neck, pulling her down for a kiss. Sansa braced her hands on his shoulders, not expecting the display of affection in front of her sister, as Arya huffed in disgust in the background. Though, she supposed, after Arya's rare display of emotion, Jaime likely needed some comfort.

Sansa sat beside Jaime, watching as Arya settled on the floor with the babe on her lap. As Julianna developed more of a personality, Arya was more interested in playing with her. Now that she could smile and make little shrieks that Sansa thought were laughs, her little sister would frequently spend time with her and try to make the babe smile and squeal.

"Are you all right?" she whispered. He looked at her in question as she took his hand. "I heard the two of you talking. About Bran."

He nodded sadly. "I'm better with you here."

….

Jaime and Sansa had dinner that night alone in his solar, as they normally did, now that winter had come. It wasn't worth it to heat the dining room, so they chose to light the fire and warm the smaller solar adjoining their bedchamber. Julianna would normally nap, or simply lie on a fur in front of the fire as her parents shared a candlelit dinner.

"I saw that Lady Catelyn was watching my practice with Arya today. With you," Jaime said quietly, the question apparent in his voice.

"I don't believe she ever plans to tell me anything about…what happened to Bran." Jaime saw how difficult it was for her even to say that much. She had assured him that she forgave him completely, and he believed her, but he could see that she couldn't bear to think about or speak about it.

"Why not?"

"She doesn't want to harm me or the babe. Despite her feelings…she knows how important you are to me. And how much you love us." Jaime nodded, though he sensed there was more to it that Sansa wasn't telling him. There had to be more of a reason for Catelyn Stark to keep such a thing from Sansa.

Before he could inquire further, his squire appeared, a letter in his outstretched hand. "From the Lord Commander of the Night's Watch." Jaime watched as Sansa extended her hand. "It's for Lord Lannister," Peck said quietly, before placing the letter on the table between them.

"Why would Jon have written to _you_ in response to the letter we sent?"

Arya had pleaded with him to allow her to write a letter to her bastard brother at the Wall. Jaime had finally relented, on condition that she write the letter as if it were from Sansa and have Sansa sign it. Arya had said that was stupid – that her brother would know it was from her by the handwriting. Jaime had winked and told her that was the point. He didn't want to advertise the fact that Arya was alive and with them at the Rock. In times of war, letters frequently fell into the wrong hands.

The Stark sisters had sat at his desk and written the letter together, carefully considering every word to only other living sibling. Jaime had read it over before sending it to the Wall, and decided that they did a good job of concealing Arya's identity. He was certain their brother would know who had written and what they were trying to convey, but if someone intercepted, they would likely not realize.

Sansa watched as Jaime took the letter, sipping her water, as he opened the seal on the letter.

_Lord Lannister,_

_I thank you for allowing your Lady Wife, my sister, to write me. I am writing you, as you are now the protector of the last of Eddard Stark's trueborn children and heirs. _

_I am grateful that my young sister is safe behind the walls of Casterly Rock. I had feared, based upon the reports I received, that she had been lost in King's Landing when Lord Stark was executed. Please tell her that I miss her and that I hope to one day see her again. I often think of the day we said farewell, and the gift I bestowed on her. I trust it has served her well._

_Please give Lady Sansa my congratulations on the birth of the babe, Julianna. I wish for nothing more than happiness for her as my sister, and as Lady of Winterfell. I trust you will treat her as the treasure that she is._

_I must warn you that the Wall has been breached by the White Walkers. I have reason to believe that there are several White Walkers headed South and you must prepare for their arrival. I warn you so that you may protect the last of Eddard Stark's children. _

_We have learned that dragon glass, fashioned as a blade or arrow head is the only way to kill the White Walkers. I advise you sincerely to make arrangements and prepare for battle. They will arrive in Lannisport._

_Jon Snow,  
__Lord Commander of the Night's Watch_

Jaime gave the boy credit for realizing the need to conceal Arya's presence at the Rock. Though Jaime could see that he had addressed messages to both of his sisters in the letter, it was not immediately obvious. Jaime passed the letter to Sansa, who was brimming with curiosity, and finished his wine as she read it.

"Do you really think the White Walkers are coming here?" she asked, her eyes wide with fear.

"Sansa…I never thought you were one for tales of the grumpkins and snarks beyond the Wall. You grew up in the North. You should know better than that."

She seemed embarrassed, but proceeded on. "Jon was never one for tall tales. If he says he saw them…" Jaime sighed and she stopped. For a moment. "Is there any way we could get dragon glass?" she asked quietly.

"If I recall correctly, there should be quite a lot in Tyrion's old chambers. He was always fascinated with dragons as a child."

She nodded. "Perhaps Gendy could make some blades from it?"

He could see she was embarrassed to make the request. Jaime was skeptical, but he supposed it couldn't hurt, if it gave her comfort. As he had read the letter, Jaime had expected Arya to be the one to insist that they make blades and arrowheads out of dragon glass. He had not expected Sansa, who was usually so practical, to fear and believe in the White Walkers.

Between the contents of this letter, the arrival of a rather harsh winter and the tales of the Targaryen girl and her dragons…Jaime wondered if the Realm was going to survive the next few years of war and winter. _If it is true, Westeros will certainly be a different place when all is said and done._

…

_Thank you all for your reviews of the last chapter! As always, let me know what you think. This chapter was more to set up what's to come next. Other characters will begin to slowly interact with Jaime and Sansa as the war (and the White Walkers) move South._

_Next chapter: unexpected visitors arrive at Casterly Rock_


	57. Chapter 57

Chapter 57

Sansa enjoyed a long bubble bath while Jaime watched the baby in their chamber. As much as she loved Jaime and their baby, she appreciated having a few moments by herself to stretch out in a hot bath. She could hear Jaime's voice echoing from the bedchamber as he spoke to Julianna and smiled to herself. _He never has been very good at sitting quietly. He could talk to that baby for hours._ Over the past several weeks, Sansa had actually learned quite a lot about Jaime just by listening to the stories he told Julianna. Not that the baby understood the words, but she always happily responded to the sound of his voice, her eyes sparkling and a smile lighting up her little face as she listened to Jaime.

After her bath, Sansa dressed in a light nightdress and robe. She stood in the doorway of their chamber, pulling out the pins that held her hair up, and smiled at the sight of Jaime reclining on the bed, his legs bent at the knee with Julianna propped up against his thighs, smiling and squealing as he tickled her little feet.

She stood in the doorway watching them, and knew that she had made the right decision when she told Jaime that she didn't care about the past and that she forgave him for everything. He was a different man than he was before they married and fell in love. She didn't know if it was losing his sword hand, or being away from Cersei's influence, or Sansa's own presence in his life, but Jaime had changed. _Perhaps it's that he has been free to love openly. He doesn't have to hide who he loves anymore. He can love and show affection for me and for his child whenever he wishes. _

"Are you going to join us, my lady?" he asked, a grin on his face as he glanced up at her.

Sansa smiled and crossed the room towards them, climbing onto the bed and curling up beside Jaime. She rested her head on Jaime's shoulder, reaching out and taking Julianna's tiny hand in her own, and smiling at her delighted little squeal. Jaime reached for the babe, tickling her belly and laughing as her squeals became louder.

"We should be calming her down to go to sleep, not exciting her like this," Sansa said, though she was smiling.

Jaime chuckled and moved the babe closer, cradling her against his chest. "Our little lioness will go right to sleep like a good girl." He leaned over and kissed Sansa, wrapping his arm around her. "You smell good," he murmured, nuzzling against her neck and softly kissing her cheek. Sansa rested a hand on the back of his neck as he moved to cover her lips with his own and his kisses became more and more aggressive.

She gently pushed him away. "Let me get her to sleep and then…we can…"

"Pick up where I left off?"

"Perhaps," she said with a smile and he kissed her, placing the babe in her lap as he walked into the bathing room, stripping his tunic off as he walked.

The Maester had told her earlier that day that her body had recovered from childbirth and that she could resume her wifely duties in the bedchamber. Sansa had blushed bright red and been horrified at the discussion with the old man she barely knew. Though she also eagerly anticipated making love with Jaime again. She had found other ways to physically comfort and distract Jaime from his grief over the past weeks, but she missed the closeness and the pleasure of being bedded by her husband.

Sansa turned her attention to the babe in her lap, unlacing her nightgown and quietly singing to the baby as she suckled, watching as her eyelids began to droop. Once the babe's belly was full and she seemed about to fall asleep, Sansa rose from the bed and made her way to the bassinette. The babe was a bit too big now for the basket she had slept in for the first month of her life, but after they'd both nearly been murdered, Sansa wasn't ready to have her sleep alone in her nursery. Not to mention that it was winter and it was much easier to only heat the one bedchamber, so she'd moved the bassinette into their chamber, placing it near the fire. She carefully placed Julianna in the bassinette, rubbing her arm and continuing to hum until the babe's eyes remained closed and she clutched her little fists to her chest.

She felt Jaime behind her, resting his hand on her waist as he looked down at their sleeping babe. "She's so peaceful. So precious."

Sansa leaned against him. "You have a way with her, Jaime…and with Arya as well. I saw her the other day, crying against you. She's come to care for you so much." Sansa hoped her mother didn't plan to tell Arya anything about what Jaime did. She didn't want either Jaime or her sister to lose the relationship they had developed over the past months together. She could see that it was important to the both of them. In some ways, she thought the relationship had helped to heal them. It allowed Arya to have a brother in her life again, and it allowed Jaime to have a companion – a sibling – after losing his relationships with Cersei and Tyrion.

"I happen to have a soft spot for you Stark girls." Sansa giggled, turning in his arms and resting her head against his chest. "Should I tell her what I did?" He didn't have to say anything further. Sansa knew what he meant.

She shook her head. "No. She's just a little girl and…it is better she not know. She's so fond of you and I fear it would only hurt her." He nodded, but she could see that he was still troubled. She lifted up on her tiptoes and kissed him, resting her hands on his chest. "I love you, Jaime."

"I love you, sweet girl," he murmured between kisses as Sansa slid her hands from his chest to wrap around his shoulders, pulling herself up until Jaime wrapped his arm around her waist, holding her off the ground. "What are you up to?" he asked, surprised at her aggression.

"Will you make love to me, Jaime?" she whispered in his ear. She felt her face heat and felt like an idiot for blushing after over a year of marriage. But Jaime still gave her a nervous fluttering in her stomach. _He's so handsome and such a brave knight._ Sometimes she still found it hard to believe that he was all hers.

Jaime chuckled, placing little kisses on her neck. "You're certain it won't hurt you?"

She nodded, staring down at his shoulder, unable to meet his eyes. "The Maester said it was all right. It's been more than two moons since Julianna was born." She was nervous, but she wanted to be close to Jaime in that way. Every now and then, he would forget the things that weighed on him and return to being his playful self. But there was still a shadow of doubt and grief around him sometimes. She wanted to resume being intimate with him, knowing that it would comfort and reassure the both of them. _Perhaps being close in that way will chase away those final ghosts._

Jaime lowered her to her feet and looked at her expectantly. She slid her robe from her shoulders, shivering as Jaime ran a finger down her bare arm. He took her hand and led her to stand beside the bed. Jaime leaned close to her, kissing her neck and trailing his fingers along the front of her nightgown. She sighed as he dipped his fingers beneath the neckline to stroke the tops of her breasts with the back of his hand. Sansa shyly reached for the hem of her gown, pulling it over her head and dropping it to the ground, standing naked before him, watching Jaime's eyes darkening with desire as they roamed over her body.

It wasn't long before Sansa was on her back on the bed, Jaime on top of her, pulling at the laces of his breeches as she ran her hands over the hard planes of his chest. She brushed his hair back from his forehead and kissed him, eagerly anticipating what was about to happen, though she felt absolutely wanton. She saw that he was getting frustrated with his laces and Sansa reached between them to undo his breeches and helped to lower them past his thighs, as Jaime finished removing them.

Once Jaime was completely nude, he rolled onto his back with Sansa sprawled on top of him. She was softly kissing his chest, enjoying the taste of his skin and the feel of his hand tangled in her hair. She covered his mouth with hers once more, her thighs on either side of his body. She felt his arousal against her as she gazed into his eyes and felt his hand moving over her bottom, pressing her against him.

"It seems you've thought quite a bit about having your way with me again," Jaime said, the smile audible in his voice. Despite his teasing, she knew he enjoyed when she was aggressive and initiated intimacy between them.

She ground her hips against him, feeling triumphant when he gasped. "Any thoughts I may have had pale in comparison to your depravity," she whispered, laughing as he rolled her onto her back and crouched above her, a mischievous glint in his eyes as he looked over her breasts.

"You know I'd never share your teats with anyone but Julianna," he murmured as Sansa giggled and slapped his arm lightly. Jaime kissed her and gently stroked her breasts, pressing himself against her. Sansa stroked his hair as she arched her back, enjoying the feel of Jaime's hand and mouth on her.

He moved up and kissed her, resting his forehead against hers. "Try not to be as loud as you normally are, my sweet, you'll wake the babe."

She hit him indignantly. "I'm not –"

He laughed quietly as he moved his mouth back to her breasts. Jaime began kissing her belly and moved her legs so they were over his shoulders. She felt her body throbbing in anticipation as Jaime nosed his way between her thighs. Sansa moaned as he began licking at her. She felt his hand on her thigh and reached for it, tangling her fingers in his as he began to move his mouth and tongue over her.

When she felt that she couldn't take it anymore, Sansa grasped his hair and tugged, noticing that a wicked grin was on his face when he met her eyes. She motioned for Jaime to come towards her and he obliged her, parting her legs with his knees as he moved over her. She felt her breath catch as his arousal brushed against her thigh. She knew what to expect, but Sansa couldn't help feeling as nervous as she had their first time. She wasn't certain if it was because it had been some time since they had made love, or because now there were no secrets between them.

_And we are so much closer now that we have Julianna._ She had not realized how much more intimate their relationship would become after the birth of their child and the time they spent together caring for their infant daughter.

Sansa rested her hands on his shoulders as Jaime slowly entered her. She felt completely overwhelmed by how close she felt to him. She gripped his shoulders tightly and Jaime stopped kissing her, meeting her eyes. "Did I hurt you?"

She shook her head, wrapping her legs around his waist. "I forgot how…how close I feel to you when you're…"

"Inside you?" She blushed and nodded. "I've missed being with you like this," he murmured quietly, kissing her. "I've needed this." Jaime buried his face against her neck as he began rolling his hips, pressing into her and sliding out. Sansa tangled her fingers in his hair as the rhythm of his movements became more and more erratic. She felt his breath against her chest as Jaime reached between them and began touching her. She bit down on her fist to muffle the sounds of her moans, so as not to wake the baby.

She saw the smirk on Jaime's face and knew that he saw what she was doing. "Having a hard time controlling yourself, little wife?"

She glared at him, hating that he was right. And how amused he was by it. She pushed until Jaime was on his back and Sansa was on top of him, straddling him. He continued stroking between her thighs as she took control, knowing he'd soon lose himself in her actions. She felt her body tighten in pleasure and forced her eyes to stay open and locked on Jaime's as she began shuddering with pleasure. He had his hand on her hip and the golden hand pressed against her other side, continuing to move her over him. She leaned forward as he opened his mouth to let out a moan, and covered it with her own, swallowing the sounds of his pleasure as Jaime released his seed inside her.

After a few moments, Sansa kissed his cheek and moved to lie beside him, running her hands over his chest and neck. He smiled, rolling onto his side to face her and kissing her swollen lips.

"This was nice," she said shyly, running her fingers over the back of his neck as he continued kissing her.

"It was more than nice." She sighed as he rolled onto his back and pulled her to his chest, stroking her hair. "I don't know where I'd be right now, without you. You will never know how grateful I am that I was offered you as a bride. I know you think that I saved you back in King's Landing, but…you saved me."

"We saved each other," she whispered, kissing his chest and closing her eyes as her arm wrapped around his shoulders, holding him tightly.

…

Jaime smiled as he watched Julianna suck on a piece of toast taken from Sansa's plate. Now that he and Arya were practicing with their swords again – though they'd moved it indoors for Winter – she was back to breaking her fast with he and Sansa every morning. Julianna normally joined them as well. Not so much for the food but, she enjoyed sitting on Jaime or Sansa's lap and being in their company.

"Can I practice with the bow and arrow today?" Arya asked, taking a bite of her breakfast.

"Inside? Of course not," Sansa said. Jaime was surprised his little wife had not objected to them bringing their practice indoors before now, truth be told.

He smiled at Arya, who seemed to know it was a losing battle. "Let's stick with the swords for a time, all right?"

"But I want to practice with the dragon glass. So I'm ready for the White Walkers."

He saw Sansa smiling to herself, though she avoided his annoyed gaze. Jaime had allowed she and Arya to appropriate a large rock of dragon glass from Tyrion's chambers, so Gendry could make a few blades and arrow heads, though they clearly knew Jaime thought it ridiculous.

"I'm certain you will have plenty of time to prepare for the White Walkers," Jaime said sarcastically and the Stark girls exchanged sheepish smiles. Jaime had mocked them more than once about their insistence on making daggers and arrowheads from dragon glass. They were just finishing up breakfast when Ser Addam entered the breakfast room.

"Jaime, there are three people at the gates. The guards tell me that one is a lady asking to see Lady Lannister." Sansa looked at him alarm. It was the dead of winter and there was no reason why any travelers should be on the road. And they certainly should not be calling at the gates to the Rock. Sansa could not imagine who would appear at the gates for her. "She is most insistent. Though she refuses to identify herself."

"Search them for weapons and have them escorted in. Make certain they are heavily guarded."

"The man is armed with a sword."

"Not if he wishes to speak to us, he's not."

Ser Addam nodded, hurrying from the room.

"Who do you think it could be?" Sansa asked, walking to the window and trying to see down to the gate, her curiosity getting the better of her.

"I don't know, Sansa. I suppose we'll find out soon enough." He watched Arya standing beside Sansa, straining to get a look. "Arya, you'll need to return to your chambers." She turned to him and Jaime could see that she was going to protest.

"I could help protect Sansa," she said urgently. "They might wish to harm her."

"My guards will be here. Jaime's right, Arya, your presence here should be kept secret. As much as possible, anyway. Go. I'll tell you later what happened."

"Fine," she said, stomping from the room.

Sansa began walking towards him and Jaime rose and took her hand. "Your guards will accompany us. If I tell you to leave, you will, all right?" She nodded and he saw her eyes widen in fear as he put on his sword. "Don't be afraid. I won't let anyone get near you or the babe." He kissed her, smoothing his hand over the babe's head.

Sansa held Julianna tightly as they walked into the entryway to wait for Ser Addam to return with their visitors. They didn't have to wait long until Ser Addam returned with three people – a man, a woman and a child from the looks of it – wearing heavy fur capes, their hoods still raised. Sansa would have been fearful were there not ten guards standing behind her and nearly three times as many accompanying Ser Addam and the visitors.

"What business do you have with my lady wife?"

"I came to fulfill a promise I made," the woman said lowering her hood.

"Margaery?" he heard Sansa whisper beside him. He looked at the man, and realized he was Loras Tyrell, wearing plain armor – not his white armor of the Kingsguard, nor his ridiculous flowered armor of Highgarden. He looked over their relatively plain capes and dull colored clothing – not at all typical for the normally showy roses of Highgarden. _They are traveling in secret._

Jaime focused now on the boy, noticing his golden hair and piercing green eyes, and saw that he carried a cage covered with an oilcloth – no doubt intended to keep its occupants warm. Jaime was certain there were mewling kittens inside and watched the boy carefully put the cage down and run towards Sansa, hugging her tightly about the waist when he reached her. _Tommen._

…

_Obviously, the next chapter will pick up where this one left off. Let me know your thoughts on the chapter and Tommen's arrival at Casterly Rock! As always, thank you so much for the reviews and for your continued interest in the story._


	58. Chapter 58

Chapter 58

Sansa was astonished to see Margaery and Loras Tyrell standing in her home. She looked at the child with them and instantly recognized Tommen. They all wore heavy furs and roughspun wool clothing – not the elegant silks and velvets those of their rank would be expected to wear. Sansa wondered why they were at Casterly Rock and why they were traveling in such a manner not befitting the little king. She had seen that they had arrived on horseback, not in the royal wheelhouse and not with the royal guards. Before she could think on it further, she saw Tommen put the cage he carried on the ground and begin to run toward her.

The red cloaks moved to stop him before he reached her, but she saw Jaime motion for them to stand down. No doubt he also recognized the boy and knew he was no threat to her or Julianna. Tommen wrapped his arms around her waist and hugged her fiercely. She was glad to see him as well and knelt down, hugging him with her free arm and stroking his hair as he rested his head on her shoulder. Sansa held Julianna in her other arm and when Tommen pulled away from her, she saw him looking curiously at the babe in her arms, who was also staring back at him, a grin on her face.

As Jaime ordered their guards to leave the room, allowing all of them to speak freely, little Tommen wrapped his arms around Jaime's leg, hugging him and greeting him as "uncle." She watched her husband look down at the child, patting his head, and she couldn't help thinking that he seemed unsettled by the showing of affection from the boy. She knew Jaime had never been allowed to show any interest in any of his children by Cersei, and she wondered if he had ever even hugged Tommen. She suspected that he had not.

"I'm so glad to see you again, your grace," she said quietly and Tommen shook his head.

"You must not call me that," he whispered. "Margaery said no one should know I am king."

Sansa looked at Margaery for an explanation. "We are at war, and there are rebels and soldiers of fortune throughout the realm who would be only too happy to ransom us. It is much safer for Tommen to travel as a commoner, rather than a king." Sansa wondered where the Kingsguard was – only Ser Loras traveled with Tommen. _Where are the others? Why does he not have more guards?_

"My name is Tom now, while we're traveling," the little boy said conspiratorially. He seemed excited by their adventure. "I've missed you since you left the capitol last year," he said, clearly happy to be reunited with Jaime and Sansa.

Sansa glanced at Jaime and could see that he was unprepared for Tommen's presence at the Rock and was unsure how to respond. She expected the role he played in Cersei's death contributed to Jaime's unease around the little boy. "We missed you, too," she said, speaking for the both of them. "I've thought about you every day. I'm glad you're safe."

"Why are you here, Tyrell?" Jaime said, in no mood to exchange plesantries with Margaery or Ser Loras.

Margaery ignored Jaime and slowly walked toward Sansa, a soft smile on her face. "It is good to see you, Sansa. It has been nearly a year since we last met."

"You look well…your grace," Sansa said quietly, remembering that Cersei had wed her to Tommen, though the marriage certainly had not been consummated. She and Jaime had been traveling through the Riverlands when the hasty marriage of the little king occurred, and they had been mercifully spared yet another King's Landing wedding. "What brings all of you to Casterly Rock?"

She hugged Sansa, careful not to squash the baby between them. "I've come to fulfill my promise to you," she whispered in Sansa's ear, smiling at the baby and running her hand over the child's hair. "This must be your babe. I had heard you had been so blessed. She's beautiful. She looks just like you," Margaery said. She sounded sweet, though Sansa couldn't help reminding herself that the girl had killed Joffrey and somehow schemed to secure herself yet another royal marriage. _Don't be so foolish as to trust her. She married an eight year old child in order to be queen. She would have allowed Tyrion to die for poisoning Joffrey - something she did._

"Thank you, Margaery, for speaking so kindly about our dear Julianna" she said, holding the babe close, as she rested her head against Sansa's chest. "Won't you sit? Can I offer you some refreshment?"

"No. We're not staying long," Ser Loras said, his tone and expression decidedly unfriendly. "My sister insisted on fulfilling an obligation to you. At great risk to both of us. We must continue on to Highgarden. As soon as possible."

"Why have you abandoned King's Landing?" Jaime asked in alarm. "Has Stannis reached the Red Keep?" Sansa imagined he was thinking of his Uncle Kevan, who was Hand of the King. As well as the danger of Stannis being so near Casterly Rock.

"Tommen," Margaery said in her sweet voice, "Why don't you check on your kittens, while we've stopped." Sansa watched as Tommen sat on the floor beside the cage he had been carrying and lifted the oil skins covering it, revealing three small cats inside, huddled together for warmth. Tommen's face lit up when he saw them, and he reached in to pet them as they began mewling.

Once the little king was out of earshot, Margaery lowered her voice. "The Dragon Queen is battling Stannis now, at the Wall. Should she be victorious – and it's expected that she will - she'll then proceed to the Capitol. My father thinks it will take but two months for her to arrive in King's Landing, if his sources are correct. He thought it best that I return to Highgarden." She glanced back at Tommen. "He did not intend for…the king…to accompany me but," she met Sansa's eyes, "I did not forget our last conversation."

Jaime looked at Sansa, not understanding what Margaery was saying, but Sansa understood. She had extracted a promise from Margaery when she and Jaime had left King's Landing – that Margaery would look after Tommen. And Sansa had insisted she agree to bring Tommen to Casterly Rock, should there ever come a time when she could not protect him. _She means to leave Tommen here with us._

"I expect my father will be very angry that I took him," Margaery said, continuing on. "But, I feared that…should the Dragon Queen succeed in overtaking the keep…" She trailed off and looked at Tommen, an uncertain expression on her face.

"You feared Lord Tyrell would give her Tommen's head. And no doubt secure you yet another advantageous marriage and a place for himself on her small council?"

Margaery didn't respond, but it was clear the answer was yes. "It is difficult, Ser Jaime, for a mere child to hold the Iron Throne – especially when so many others claim it. Perhaps if his mother were still alive to fight for his right to rule. To form alliances for him and to ensure the loyalty of those at court. But she is not. And we both know Tommen is in danger, should a single battle go the wrong way. He is safest with his family. Away from court."

"So you mean to leave him here?" The young queen nodded at Jaime's question. "What of your marriage?"

"What of it? He's only nine, Ser Jaime. It's not as if…it can be set aside later, if need be, should we all survive this war." She looked at Jaime. "You are his…closest relative, now that Queen Cersei is dead. I was so sorry to hear of her death. Such a tragedy," she murmured, looking Jaime squarely in the eye, no doubt suspecting the story of her death that had been sent to the Capitol was not entirely accurate. Sansa saw that Jaime was making an effort to restrain his anger as the girl continued. "Tommen should be with you."

"We should leave now, sister," Ser Loras said coldly.

Jamie glared at the young knight. "I see you take your vows to protect him seriously," Jaime said, clearly disgusted by how little the knight, sworn to the Kingsguard, cared about what happened to Tommen. It was clear his only concern was Margaery and her safety, not the little king he was sworn to protect with his life.

"Are we to leave the Rock already?" Little Tommen asked from his seated position on the floor beside his cage of kittens, disappointment in his voice. _She didn't tell him that he's to stay here._ Sansa realized that the little boy believed he would continue on to Highgarden with his Queen.

Margaery knelt down beside Tommen. "I think it would be best, for you to stay here, Tommen. With Ser Jaime and Lady Sansa." She saw sadness in the boy's eyes, and it did not surprise her. Sansa expected Tommen had become quite attached to the Tyrells during the past year. Cersei had been imprisoned for a time, and then dead for more than a month. His entire family was gone. _Except for Jaime and Myrcella, though she is far away in Dorne. _Tommen's eyes filled with tears as Margaery kissed his forehead and told him to be brave.

"No! I shall not stay here. I am to be with my lady wife."

Sansa handed the baby to Jaime and approached Tommen, sitting on the ground beside him. "It's all right, Tommen," she said quietly. "You'll be safe here with us, I promise." She gently rubbed his shoulder and reached to pet one of the little cats with her other hand.

Her heart broke as Tommen turned to her with teary green eyes, so like Jaime's and Julianna's. Looking at him, she could easily see Jaime as a little boy. She knew little Tommen was losing the only stability he'd had in his life for the past year. "But I'm supposed to stay with my lady wife and protect her," he said in a sad little voice.

"I'll protect Lady Margaery," Ser Loras said. "This is what is best and safest, for the both of you."

"You'll have the kittens I gave you, to remember me," she said, gesturing to the three small cats in the cage. Margaery hugged her little husband goodbye before rising to her feet and taking her brother's arm. "Goodbye, Sansa. Ser Jaime."

Margaery and Ser Loras walked toward darkened hall, leading to the Lion's Mouth, where Jaime's guards rejoined them. They had come and gone so quickly, it was almost as if she had imagined their appearance at the Rock. As the red cloaks began to escort them out, Tommen began to cry, walking after them as if to follow. Before Sansa could rise to her feet to go after him, Jaime put Julianna in her lap and reached Tommen in three strides, gripping his shoulders and turning him around, walking him back to Sansa.

"You can't go with them, Tommen," Jaime said firmly.

Sansa tried to distract him from his despair, by asking about his kittens, but Tommen continued to stare at the backs of Margaery and Loras as they walked away from him, tears silently streaming down his little face. She looked at Jaime and saw that he was uncertain about how to act with Tommen – his son – now that he was with them at the Rock and Jaime was responsible for him.

"Can I watch them ride away?" he asked miserably.

"Of course," Sansa said, walking him to the window and helping him up onto the window seat to watch, holding Julianna in her arms. The child rested his hands against the glass and stared down at the long road leading from Casterly Rock to Lannisport. She gently rubbed his shoulder before walking back to stand beside Jaime.

"What are we supposed to do now?" he whispered to her. She looked up at Jaime, not sure what he meant, and saw him looking at Tommen, worry in his eyes. "She thinks he'll not be king much longer, and wanted to be rid of him. So she'll be free for the next opportunity to be Queen."

"He'll be all right. He just needs a little time to feel comfortable here and to know that we're going to take care of him."

"I don't know how to take care of him. He's…I don't have the relationship with him that I'm supposed to have."

Sansa leaned against Jaime, taking his hand. "It will be fine," she said quietly. "He's a good boy and he likes us. He'll come around and be just as happy here as he was in King's Landing."

"I killed his mother," Jaime whispered in her ear.

"You are his father," she whispered back, careful that no one could hear her.

"Sansa," he began, speaking quietly so the boy could not hear them speaking, "You must realize that Tommen's presence here will draw the war to Casterly Rock. Whether it's Stannis or the Targaryen girl…in time they will come here looking for Tommen. His death will assure the legitimacy of their rule. His presence here endangers you and Julianna. I'd not endanger either of you for anything."

Sansa wondered if her shock showed on her face. "You can't mean to send him away? Where would he go? Jaime, he belongs here, with you, more than he belongs anywhere else. The walls of the Rock will protect him. Who better than you and I to protect him?"

Jaime looked at her in disbelief. "You really want to raise my bastard son? Cersei's son? You really wish to take on being his mother?"

"We're all he has," she said quietly, thinking back to when she was all alone in King's Landing and how grateful she would have been for someone to care for her as she was prepared to care for Tommen.

Jaime sighed and asked the guards to bring Lady Alys to join them, waiting until they were alone before addressing the boy. "Tommen? Tommen, it's time to come away from the window."

The boy clearly wanted to continue watching, but he was obedient, and climbed down, walking to Jaime and Sansa. She couldn't stop herself from reaching out and wiping away the boy's tears. "You'll be all right," she whispered, stroking his hair. She met Jaime's eyes and could see he was uncertain how to proceed. She wasn't sure what to do to reassure either one of them.

"Tommen," Jaime began, "While you stay here, we're going to pretend that you're not the king, all right? Just as when you traveled with the Tyrells."

Tommen nodded. "I'm to stay here?" he asked in a small voice.

"Yes. Lady Alys, the wife of my steward, will get you settled. She's a very kind woman and she'll make certain you're comfortable here."

"Can my kittens stay here, too?"

"Of course," Sansa said, seeing that Jaime was a bit out of sorts. Tommen looked at the baby in Sansa's arms, then back at Jaime, unsure of himself. He looked around the large room they were in, with hallways leading to the different areas of the Rock, and he seemed so little and lost. Sansa couldn't help thinking that Jaime seemed just as lost as Tommen did as he told the boy how important it was that no one know he was king. Tommen listened to Jaime and nodded, though he clung to Sansa's hand tightly, desperate for comfort.

Jaime reached to take the babe from her and as he held Julianna against him, Sansa realized that he was holding her to comfort himself. He absently rubbed the babe's back as she nuzzled against his neck. As her eyes flitted between father and son, Sansa saw the same disquiet mirrored in both their expressions. Tommen continued to hold her hand and Sansa reached out and gently touched Jaime, stopping his speech to the boy when he leaned into her touch.

"It's going to be all right," Sansa whispered. "I promise." Jaime nodded at her, but she could see that he didn't really believe her. She supposed it was foolish to think that he and Tommen would magically become father and son, but she was certain that they cared for one another and that the little boy could be a part of their family.

…

_Thank you so much for all of the reviews._

_Next chapter: Sansa tries to make Tommen feel like part of their family_


	59. Chapter 59

Chapter 59

….

Sansa was curled up on the sofa in her sitting room, working on her needlework, while Julianna lay on a blanket in front of the fire. She was working on a blanket for Tommen, hoping that a receiving a special gift for his room would make him feel more at home at Casterly Rock. She had been torn, not certain if she should stitch a lion or a stag on the blanket, finally deciding to stitch a striped kitten, since she knew it would make him smile.

Tommen had been turned over to Lady Alys not long after Margaery and Ser Loras left him at the Rock. Lady Alys had helped to look after Jaime and Cersei after their mother died and clearly knew who the little boy was, though she nodded in agreement when Jaime had insisted that she not use his name in front of the servants, and that she not refer to him as king. Lady Alys had simply taken Tommen by the hand and led him to what was to be his bedchamber, in order to get him settled, along with his cage of kittens. Sansa knew the kindly older woman would be able to make Tommen feel at ease, just as she had made Sansa feel comfortable when she had first arrived at Casterly Rock and felt a bit out of sorts.

Jaime had almost immediately strode off in search of Arya, no doubt needing to lose himself in the peace that sword-fighting brought him. Sansa knew that Jaime and Arya had a special relationship. They were able to relax around one another, sometimes not speaking at all, simply sparring and practicing their footwork and their swings. It saddened Sansa that Jaime was so intimidated and uncertain about Tommen's presence. She did not understand how such a brave, fierce warrior could be so frightened at the prospect of raising a little boy.

She knew that he worried about his ability to love Tommen and be a father to him. Sansa looked down at Julianna, lying on a thick blanket and smiled. She saw how much Jaime loved their baby and had no doubt that there was room in his heart for Tommen. _If he would only let his guard down and get to know the child. If only he would let himself love him._

Sansa looked up and saw Lady Alys in the doorway, her hand on Tommen's back. "I thought our little guest might like to spend some time here with you, Sansa. Lunch should be ready in about an hour. Are you hungry?" she asked, directing her question to Tommen. He shrugged and Lady Alys met Sansa's eyes. She could see Lady Alys was concerned that the little boy was unhappy and uncomfortable at the Rock.

"I'd very much enjoy the company," Sansa said, smiling gently at Tommen. "It's been so long since we've been able to sit together and talk."

Lady Alys patted Tommen's shoulder before leaving the boy with Sansa. Tommen immediately plopped down in front of the fire beside Julianna, watching her curiously. Sansa smiled to herself as Tommen gently touched the baby, petting her as if she were one of his kittens. "What's her name?" he asked quietly.

"Julianna." Sansa put down her sewing, watching as Tommen whispered the baby's name and continued to pet her. One of Tommen's kittens ran through the room, and the baby let out a delighted squeal, reaching out in the direction of the little animal. _Perhaps an affection for kittens runs in the family._

Sansa moved to sit on the floor beside Tommen, hugging him as she settled herself onto the large fur and blanket he sat on. She felt for the little boy who had lost so much in the past few years. King Robert – the man he believed to be his father - had died. His brother, Joffrey, had died, and Myrcella had been packed off to Dorne. His mother was dead. And now Margaery and Ser Loras had abandoned him here at the Rock with she and Jaime. Little Tommen had lost almost as much as Sansa had.

"Do you like your chamber here? It's not very far from our chambers, should you need me or Jaime for anything."

Tommen nodded. "Lady Alys helped to make a bed for my kittens, by the fire."

"But you miss home, don't you?"

"I miss mother. And father. And Joffy and Myrcella." He leaned against Sansa as his eyes filled with tears.

"I know you do," she said quietly, watching as Julianna grasped Tommen's finger tight and smiled brightly, her eyes moving over his face. "When I was in King's Landing, I missed my family so much. And I missed Winterfell. That was my home for as long as I could remember."

"Do you still miss it?"

"Sometimes. But Casterly Rock has come to feel like home to me. I think you'll be happy here, too, Tommen. Jaime made this feel like home. He made me feel safe here." She stroked his soft golden hair and thought of Jaime. "He's your family and he cares about what happens to you. And I am your family, too, now that Jaime is my husband." Sansa looked down at Julianna and saw that Tommen was holding her little hand. "She likes you."

"I've never got to play with a baby before."

"Do you want to hold her?"

"Can I?" he asked, looking at her with those deep green eyes.

Sansa nodded, lifting Julianna up and placing her in Tommen's lap. He held her securely, smiling down at her and laughing when she reached up and touched his face. His laugh made the baby smile and curl her fingers against his face.

"Julianna's your family, too, you know. Your…Jaime's her father." Sansa couldn't bring herself to call Jaime his uncle, since she knew it wasn't true.

"She's pretty. She looks like you," he said shyly.

"And her eyes are like yours," she said, smiling.

"I wanted a little brother or little sister to play with but Mother always said that three of us were enough and I could not have a little brother or sister."

Sansa wasn't sure what to say. She knew it wasn't her place to tell him that he _was_ the baby's older brother. That he did have a little sister. Though, she couldn't help noticing how Tommen was drawn to her baby and how they responded to one another. She wondered if they somehow knew that they were brother and sister. She wondered if they felt a bond with one another already. "You and Julianna are going to grow up together here at Casterly Rock. And you will be able to play with her whenever you want," she began hesitantly. "You're part of our family. You, Jaime, Julianna and I are a family now, all right?"

He nodded.

"And you'll protect her, and make sure she's always safe and that no one hurts her, won't you?"

"I promise," he said solemnly, hugging the baby. "Thank you for letting me live with you," he whispered and Sansa leaned over and kissed the top of his head. She caught movement out of the corner of her eye and saw Jaime standing in the doorway. She wanted him to join them, but she could see that he was still hesitant to treat Tommen as his son. He smiled at her, faintly, before continuing on to their bedchamber, leaving Sansa with Tommen and Julianna.

…

"Thank you," Jaime whispered, kissing Sansa's collarbone, his hand roaming over her bare hip.

"What for?"

"You know what for," he murmured, as she climbed into his lap. "Most women would not be so accepting of Tommen. You've been…wonderful to him. Treating him as part of our family and…allowing him to hold the babe and be her brother…even if he doesn't know it."

She smiled, gently stroking Jaime's hair and threading her fingers along the base of his neck. "If you want to tell him…I don't mind," she whispered, gently kissing below his ear.

Jaime gently grasped her chin and forced her to meet his eyes. "That'd be a death sentence for me and for him."

"I know it is now, but, if a time comes that it is safe to tell him, I don't mind. I'd like he and Julianna to know they are brother and sister." Sansa wished he weren't so adamant that Tommen remain in the dark about their true relationship. She wished there weren't secrets between them.

"How can you feel that way about Cersei's child?"

"He's _your_ child. He's your son, Jaime. He's so like you and I love you," she whispered, kissing his temple. "How could I not love your son?"

Jaime shifted her onto her back, kissing her over and over as she wrapped her long legs around his waist. She rolled her head back into the pillows as Jaime began kissing and touching her breasts.

"You really are perfect, aren't you?" he murmured against her skin. "What did you ever do to end up with a man as flawed as me for a husband?" he asked with a smirk.

"I like your flaws," she said, gently moving her fingers over his cheek, the slight stubble tickling her fingers. "Almost as much as I like being here in bed with you…" Her voice trailed off into a moan as she felt Jaime enter her slowly, knowing he planned to lazily make love to her for a while, drawing it out. Sansa closed her eyes and wrapped her arms around his shoulders as he moved against her, breathing heavily against her neck.

He rolled onto his back and Sansa stretched out on top of him, kissing and sucking at the skin of his neck. His hand slid to her bottom as she rested her hands on his chest, her nipples brushing against him. "You are excellent at making me forget…everything but you," he whispered, kissing her again.

Sansa smiled as Jaime sat up, clutching her to him and moving his mouth over her breasts. She began stroking his hair, thinking his golden hair was as soft as his son's. "I love you so much, Jaime. So much." She closed her eyes and concentrated on the feel of Jaime moving inside her and his mouth on her breasts.

"Sansa?"

Her eyes flew open at the sound of the timid little voice, and Sansa was horrified to see Tommen standing in the doorway between her chamber and Jaime's, looking at them with wide eyes. Sansa could see that Jaime had not even noticed. She scrambled off his lap, covering her breasts as she all but flew under the covers. Jaime turned his head and saw Tommen, cursing softly before looking at Sansa with a smirk on his face. "Still think it's a good idea that we raise him?" he whispered. She scowled at him, wishing she could just disappear, feeling her face heat in humiliation.

Jaime reached over the edge of the bed, picking up his discarded tunic, which he tossed to her, no doubt knowing she was horrified that Tommen had seen them naked and having sex. She smiled gratefully and slipped it over her head, praying that Tommen wouldn't say anything about what he had seen.

"What's the matter, Tommen?" She could hear the annoyance in Jaime's voice and resisted the urge to tell him to be patient with the little boy.

"I was scared." Tommen seemed unconcerned that Jaime was completely naked as he hesitantly entered the room. Sansa sat up once she was covered, sighing deeply to forget her embarrassment. She saw Tommen slowly walk toward the bed and then cautiously climb onto it, all but throwing himself into her arms, seeking comfort, though she could see he was afraid that Jaime was angry at him. Even as he clutched her tightly, he glanced over at Jaime warily.

"It's all right, Tommen," she whispered.

Sansa felt her face heat yet again as Jaime rose from the bed and walked into the bathing room, his manhood still hard with arousal. She wondered if Tommen would realize what he had interrupted and prayed to the seven that he would not question why they were both naked or what they were doing. He rested his head against Sansa's chest as she stroked his hair. She held him silently for a few minutes, his little arms wrapped around her.

"Is Uncle Jaime angry that I came in here?"

Sansa smiled to herself as she considered what he had interrupted and knew Jaime was not happy, not that she would tell Tommen that. She wanted him to be able to come to them if he needed them. "He understands it's your first night here, and you're a bit nervous. What did you dream of?" she asked quietly, pulling him onto her lap and leaning against the headboard, propping a pillow behind her back.

"Mother." he whispered. "She died here. What if the man who killed her tries to hurt me? Mother said there were enemies and killers in every corner, and only she and the Kingsguard could protect me. But…my guards aren't here. Ser Loras left. Who will protect me?"

She looked up and saw Jaime walking back toward the bed. Sansa knew he had heard Tommen's words. "No one will harm you Tommen," she heard Jaime say quietly as he climbed back into bed, slipping beneath the furs. "You're safe here at Casterly Rock. I promise you."

She saw so much of Jaime in the scared little boy cuddling in her arms. Tommen had such innocence in his face that she knew most people would laugh at the suggestion that he was like Jaime. But she'd seen such innocence and sweetness on Jaime's face. Especially in the past months, when he looked at and played with Julianna.

"We won't let anyone hurt you," she whispered, kissing the top of Tommen's head.

He leaned against Sansa, looking at Jaime with sad eyes. "Mother said you only cared about Sansa and the baby. She said you wouldn't help us or protect us." Sansa felt her anger rise as Tommen repeated Cersei's words that were clearly designed to put a wedge between the boy and Jaime.

"Your mother was wrong," Jaime said. "Sansa and I both care very much about what happens to you."

"Who's going to take care of me now?" Tommen said in a tiny voice, wiping tears from his eyes.

Jaime looked away from the boy for a moment, meeting Sansa's eyes, which were imploring him to offer Tommen some words of comfort. "Sansa and I will take care of you," he said, finally, meeting the boy's eyes.

"For how long?"

Jaime sighed. She could see that her husband was having difficulty with this conversation with the young son that he barely knew. "You're going to live with us, until you're grown."

"You won't send me away?"

Jaime shook his head. "We're not going to send you away. You'll live with us and we will take care of you."

Sansa could see that Jaime was surprised when Tommen climbed off her lap and moved towards him, hugging him tightly. He slowly raised his hand to the boy's head, which was resting on his shoulder, and patted his head hesitantly. Jaime met her eyes and she smiled, hoping that he was on his way to being comfortable with Tommen. _He's such a good father to our baby and he gets along so well with Arya. I know there's room in his heart for little Tommen._

"Can I sleep here tonight with you?" Tommen asked in a small voice.

Jaime looked at Sansa and she could see he wanted to refuse the boy's request, but he softened when she smiled at him, nodding slightly. "Just for tonight," Jaime said, as the boy smiled a chubby little smile. "And only as long as I get to lie next to Sansa, too."

Sansa gave him a long-suffering look, but Tommen nodded solemnly, climbing out of Jaime's lap and over Sansa to settle on the other side of her, resting his head on her chest and wrapping his arms around her. She gently stroked his hair as she felt Jaime stretch out next to her, snaking his arm around her waist. Jaime nuzzled deep into Sansa's dark red hair, sighing deeply.

"Tomorrow night, we start bolting the door," he whispered quietly in Sansa's ear. She smiled and turned her head to kiss him, settling into his arms, as he returned her kiss. She gave him a warning look as she pulled away, knowing he'd continue kissing her if she allowed it, despite Tommen lying next to her. "I look forward to finishing where we left off," he murmured in her ear as he rested his head against hers.

"Good night," Tommen whispered sleepily against her.

"Good night, darling boy," she whispered, holding him tighter.

"Good night, Uncle Jaime."

Sansa turned her head, raising her eyebrow at Jaime. "Good night, Tommen." He kissed her neck again. "I'd wager you never thought you'd spend the night in bed with two Lannister Lions," he whispered in her ear, kissing her carefully, so as not to alert Tommen. "And I never thought I'd have to compete with my own blood for a space in your arms at night."

She playfully pushed at Jaime, who settled against her, closing his eyes. "I love you, sweet girl," he murmured as he drifted off to sleep. Sansa smiled, feeling warm and safe, cuddled up with Jaime and Tommen in the large bed as the fire crackled across the room. _He's coming around_, she thought, hoping he and little Tommen would learn to love and trust one another. _They just need some time together._

…

_As always, thank you for the reviews, and please keep the comments and suggestions coming. Based upon their personalities, I think that Sansa would have no issues with Tommen and would welcome him immediately, but Jaime has such complex feelings and hang-ups about Tommen - especially after killing Cersei - that I feel like it would be difficult for him to fully accept his presence as part of their family. Soon we'll have more of the outside world creep into Lannisport… _

_Next Chapter: Jaime and Tommen spend some time together and Catelyn learns of the boy's presence at Casterly Rock_


	60. Chapter 60

Chapter 60

Jaime awoke in the morning, finding that Tommen had somehow found his way between he and Sansa in the bed – no doubt moving into her spot when she got up in the night to feed the babe. _There's no denying that the boy feels safe with her,_ Jaime thought, noticing that Tommen couldn't possibly be sleeping closer to Sansa if he tried. He supposed it wasn't surprising that Tommen would attach himself to a mother figure, now that Cersei was dead. _Now that I've killed her_, he corrected. Jaime knew he was to blame for Tommen having no one but he and Sansa to care for him.

He heard Julianna cooing from her bassinette, and rose from the bed to get her. He smiled down at her sweet little face, and wondered why he felt so much stronger for her than for his son, who was lying in bed beside Sansa. _Perhaps it is because Julianna has always been mine, and has always had my name. While I always knew Tommen was not mine._ Jaime lifted his daughter into his arms, kissing her forehead and taking her back to the bed with him.

As he settled on the bed, holding Julianna, Jaime looked over at Sansa. She was fast asleep, with Tommen curled up beside her, holding her hand in both of his small ones. She looked completely at peace. He didn't understand how she could accept Tommen so easily and so completely into their family. Whenever he looked at the boy's features, he saw Cersei. After all the horrible things Cersei and Joffrey had done to Sansa, he didn't know how she could stand the sight of Tommen. Though, his little wife loved _him_, despite being a Lannister. Jaime knew his little wife well enough to know that, if he asked, Sansa would say that when she looked at Tommen, she saw him, not Joffrey or Cersei.

He couldn't help thinking of his sister and wondering what she would think, if she could see them like this, piled into the bed that he and Sansa shared, knowing that Sansa was now, in effect, Tommem's mother. He had little doubt that Cersei would see it as a betrayal that Jaime was allowing Sansa to raise Tommen, but Jaime knew it was best for the boy. And Sansa seemed so determined that he live with them. _Tommen doesn't have anyone but us to be parents to him. _ _Sansa will be a good mother to him, even if I don't know how to be his father. At least he'll have one suitable parent. _Jaime had no doubt that Sansa would come to love him as her own child, given time. She was a natural mother. A natural nurturer?

Julianna was making her little cooing noises and patting his chest excitedly, demanding his attention and distracting him from his thoughts. "Try not to wake everyone, little lioness," he whispered to his daughter in a soothing tone, trying to calm her, though she was usually a happy little bundle of energy when she awoke in the morning.

Sitting and holding his baby made Jaime wonder about Myrcella. She was his daughter as well, though he never thought of her as such. The babe in his arms – the little creature that had a firm and unrelenting grip on his heart – was his true daughter. His only child. Though he couldn't help thinking of the others that he'd not been permitted to love or call his own.

Joffrey, who had turned out to be a monster. A living symbol of the ugliness and sin of his relationship with Cersei.

Myrcella, who looked so much like Cersei that he could not bear the thought of seeing her. He knew almost nothing about the girl that came from his seed, having hardly spoken to her over the course of her life.

And then there was Tomman, the little boy asleep in his bed, curled up alongside his wife. Though Jaime aknowledged that the boy resembled him, he was also a virtual stranger. He didn't know how he was to go about raising him and making him feel safe and loved. Every time he looked at the boy, he was reminded of Cersei and it was like a knife through his heart.

He tilted Julianna's little face up to his – and saw only her mother. She was the picture of his sweet Sansa. She giggled and squealed, smiling up at him, and Jaime held her closer, her warm little body so soft and comforting against his bare chest. He kissed her little cheek and cuddled her against him. _I love this little girl so much. This is how I'm supposed to feel about my child. This is how it feels to be a father._ He had never felt anything for the others that came close to the powerful love he had for Julianna. Jaime felt movement beside him and looked down to see Tommen watching him.

"Good morning, Uncle Jaime," he said quietly. Jaime noticed Sansa was still asleep, leaving him alone to entertain Tommen and Julianna. His children.

"Did you sleep all right?" Jaime whispered, so as not to wake his wife.

He nodded, still lying down, but reached over to touch Julianna's little foot, making her squeak with joy when she looked over and saw him.

Jaime slid further under the covers, lying on his side facing the boy, and placed the babe onto the mattress, on her back between he and Tommen. He smiled as she turned her little head back and forth, looking between the two of them.

"No more bad dreams?" Tommen shook his head, not looking at Jaime, instead focusing on the babe lying beside him. Jaime rested his head on the pillow, uncertain how to speak to the boy. He was far more open and affectionate than Jaime was, but he was also shy, and Jaime wasn't at all close to him. Cersei had never allowed him to show any interest in Tommen or the others.

"Mother always used to call the Rock her true home," Tommen said quietly, and Jaime turned his head, watching the boy as he spoke, seeing that he still only looked at Julianna.

"Casterly Rock is to be your home now, as well."

"And Sansa is going to take care of me?"

"We both will take care of you. You like Sansa, don't you?"

The boy smiled and nodded. "She's always nice to me. You like her too, don't you?" he asked, his green eyes meeting Jaime's.

Jaime chuckled, resting his hand on the babe lying between them – proof of just how much he liked Sansa. Not to mention what Tommen had interrupted the night before. "Yes, I do. I love her very much."

"Is that why she sleeps here in your bed and not in her chambers?"

"Yes. I like having her here with me."

"Mother never let Margaery sleep in my chambers as Sansa sleeps in yours," Tommen said and Jaime had to fight the urge to laugh at the ridiculousness of the child's entire marriage to Margaery Tyrell.

"That is…something for when you're older," Jaime said, hoping to leave it at that.

"Like what you and Sansa were doing last night?" he asked, rather innocently, though Jaime was glad Sansa was asleep, or she might have had a heart attack at the horror of Tommen's questions about seeing them having sex.

"Yes, like that. That's what…married people do when they're old enough." Jaime would be forever grateful to Julianna for distracting Tommen from the topic. The babe gingerly rolled on her side, facing Tommen, and grabbed his nightshirt, holding it tightly in her little fists. Jaime didn't have to see her face to know there was a huge smile on it. He watched as Tommen carefully held her, hugging the babe to him as she squealed in delight. Tommen looked over at him, and he felt terrible seeing the apprehensive expression on the boy's face, as if he were going to be scolded for holding the baby. Jaime thought he must still believe what Cersei told him – that he only cared about Sansa and Julianna. "You can play with her, and hold her. It's all right."

Tommen smiled, stroking the baby's hair. Jaime could see that he was touching her carefully and gently. He knew the boy would not harm her. _He will not harm...his baby sister. _Jaime looked past his children and saw that the babe's happy squeals had woken Sansa, her sleepy eyes on him as she lay still beside his son.

"Sansa said Julianna's my family. She said the four of us are a family."

He forced himself to look away from Sansa's eyes and down at the boy – at his son – who continued quietly chatting with him. "She's right, Tommen. We are a family."

He felt Sansa take his hand, reaching across the children. He met her eyes and could see she was pleased with his words to Tommen. She leaned over Tommen and kissed the boy's cheek, whispering good morning, before doing the same to the babe.

"What about me?" Jaime asked, smirking at her.

She blushed and glanced at Tommen, though Jaime reached for her before she could react and kissed her full on the mouth. She was blushing even more when he released her lips and Jaime moved his mouth to her ear. "He saw us fucking last night. Witnessing a kiss won't traumatize the boy."

"Jaime!" He laughed as she clearly fought the urge to smack him. He knew he should stop scandalizing her, but he enjoyed teasing his little wife. He'd never been able to be playful with Cersei, but Sansa seemed to know that his teasing was meant to show her affection. Scowling, Sansa settled back beside Tommen, softly tousling his hair and watching as he held Julianna. "Are you feeling better about being here at Casterly Rock?" she asked quietly.

He turned his head to look at her, nodding. "Thank you for letting me sleep here with you. Mother never would. She said I could not act like a baby and that I had to sleep alone in my chamber, because that is what a king should do."

"Everyone needs a bit of comfort sometimes. There's nothing wrong with that," she said, sitting up and leaning against the headboard as Jaime did the same, Tommen and the babe still lying on the bed between them. Jaime looked her over and marveled at how beautiful his little wife was, wearing nothing but his rumpled tunic. He had to admit, it felt right to be here this morning with Sansa and their babe, and little Tommen, all of them piled into their bed. Though, he couldn't help feeling a bit guilty for it. He wondered if he was betraying Cersei by allowing such an intimate, family relationship to develop between Sansa and Tommen. _Is it wrong to let her mother him?_

Sansa looked up from the children and met Jaime's eyes, a soft smile on her face. "They're so sweet together," she whispered. _She's happy. I've given her a family._ He knew that she wanted a family - a pack - more than anything. At least he got that right. Tommen was smiling at the baby, looking her in the eyes – eyes that matched his own – as she reached out and touched his face.

"I noticed that someone found their way between us in the night," he said quietly, a smirk on his face. "I may begin to feel jealous if this goes on much longer."

"Oh, stop it," she said, reaching down and gently stroking Tommen's hair.

"Not that I blame him for wanting to be close to you," he whispered, looking down at the children again.

The babe began whining and Sansa picked her up, softly saying her name and cradling her in her arms. She began nosing against Sansa's breasts and Jaime saw his wife glance nervously at Tommen – no doubt debating the propriety of allowing the child to see her breasts.

"He's saw it all last night," Jaime said with a smirk, resting his head against the headboard as Tommen looked at him, not understanding. Sansa sighed and removed the tunic she wore and helped guide the babe to one of her nipples. Tommen turned his head as the babe's suckling noises and happy purrs filled the room, watching curiously as she nursed at Sansa's breast.

"That's how baby kittens get milk from their mothers."

Jaime snorted back a laugh at Sansa's expression. "She is like a little kitten, isn't she?" Sansa said with a smile, shooting Jaime a look of warning. "Don't you think she sounds like a purring kitten?"

Tommen was quiet, listening to the sounds Julianna made before nodding happily. Sansa reached out with her free hand and smoothed back Tommen's hair, smiling as he settled back onto the bed, curling up and resting his head against her leg. Jaime got out of bed, walking toward the bathing room, though he stopped for a moment watching Sansa absently rub Tommen's back as she nursed Julianna. _Perhaps Tommen will finally have a mother that puts him first – a mother who just loves him. _

He didn't think that would make up for not having a proper father.

….

Sansa had told Arya who their visitors were the day before – and that Tommen would be staying with them at the Rock - but the children had not seen one another yet, as Tommen had been off with Lady Alys getting settled and Arya had spent the morning practicing with Jaime. But she could see that her little sister was none too pleased at the new addition to their table when she sat down to break her fast.

Sansa ignored Arya's glare. "You two remember each other, don't you?"

"Yes," she said sullenly as Tommen shyly took a seat beside Sansa. The boy was openly curious about Arya. Sansa watched him take in her short hair and breeches and the sword at her belt. She certainly didn't look like any highborn girl he would have encountered in King's landing. Arya's appearance still annoyed Sansa, though her hair had begun to grow out the past few months and now she would put it up in a tiny ponytail when she and Jaime practiced.

The meal was quiet, with the exception of Arya and Jaime talking about various sword-fighting maneuvers and the progress of the dragon glass weapons that Gendry was making. Sansa saw that Tommen was listening with interest, though he was far too shy to join in their conversation. She remembered how Tommen had wanted Loras Tyrell to teach him to joust with his little pony that he'd received for his nameday.

"Did you ever wish to be a knight?" she whispered to Tommen beside her. He smiled and nodded at Sansa. "Perhaps you could watch Arya and Jaime practice some morning." She leaned over and whispered in his ear. "And maybe Jaime could even teach you to fight with a sword."

He smiled shyly, taking a drink of his water. "Mother always said I was too little and clumsy. And that it was too dangerous."

"I think it will be all right, as long as you're not using live steel." Sansa thought perhaps Jaime and Tommen could get to know one another as they crossed swords. It had certainly helped Jaime and Arya overcome their differences and become good friends. Before she could suggest it, Tommen made a different request of her.

"May I see where mother is buried?" Tommen asked and Sansa looked at Jaime, who she could see had heard Tommen's request and seemed stricken. "I want to put flowers on her grave."

She knew from Lady Alys that Jaime had ordered Cersei interred in the crypts almost immediately after her body was discovered, and as far she could tell, Jaime had never visited her grave. She could imagine how difficult it would be for him – since she had tried to kill she and Julianna, and forced Jaime to kill her in order to protect them. Even now, after some time had passed, she could still see a shadow pass over his face, and knew he was thinking about his sister. She'd seen it a few times since Tommen's arrival, when Jaime would study the boy's face.

"There aren't any flowers now that its winter, Tommen, but I can take you to the crypts," Sansa said quietly.

"No, Sansa. I'll take him." She silently asked him if he was certain, and Jaime nodded. She hoped he wasn't offering this as another way to punish himself. _He must know he's going to expose himself to Tommen's grief over Cersei's death._

"But we're supposed to practice," Arya protested loudly.

"It's dark now, Arya, and it'll be dark for days. I don't expect it matters what time of day we practice, so long as we have torches. I'll come find you a bit later, all right?"

"Fine."

"I promise." Jaime rose from his seat and ruffled her hair. She pretended to be affronted, but Sansa could see she enjoyed his attention. "Come along, Tommen."

Sansa smiled to herself as Tommen ran to catch up with Jaime, his little legs moving quickly to keep up with Jaime's long stride. She could see that Jaime did not expect it when the boy took his hand as he ran along beside him. _He is such a sweet boy, _Sansa thought, watching as father and son walked away together.

"Why is he here?" Arya demanded angrily once Jaime was out of earshot.

"There's no one else to take care of him. He's not safe in the capitol with Lord Tyrell and all the others who only wish for power and don't care if a little boy lives or dies."

"Who cares if he's safe after what they did to us? The king is our enemy."

"I've told you not to call him King. And he's not Joffrey. He could never be so horrible as him. Why do you suddenly act as if you hate all Lannisters? Jaime's a Lannister."

"Why are you protecting the queen's son? She tried to kill you and Julianna."

Sansa took a deep breath, not sure how to explain things to Arya. "_She_ did. But Tommen had nothing to do with that. He's just a little boy. A very lonely little boy who has lost most of his family. Just as you and I have. Jaime is the only family he has left." Sansa had her suspicions about the reasons for her sister's hostility toward Tommen. "Jaime will still spend as much time with you as he did before," she said casually, sipping her tea.

"I don't care about that," Arya said unconvincingly.

"You know, it won't kill you to admit that you like Jaime. I see that you do." Arya looked down stubbornly at her food. "You're not betraying Robb, or Bran or Rickon, just because Jaime has come to be a brother to you," Sansa said quietly, seeing that Arya's eyes became teary. "They wouldn't want you to be lonely. They would be glad that you have someone to talk to and who will protect you and make sure that you're safe."

"I know," she said in a small voice.

"Jaime will still practice with you every day and teach you – just as he did before. You needn't feel jealous."

"I'm not jealous! Jaime doesn't even like him. He can't do anything I can."

"You mustn't say that Jaime doesn't like him. That's not true."

"Seems that way to me."

"They just don't know each other very well."

Arya looked at her as if that were the stupidest thing Sansa had ever said. "They've known each other for his whole life. Jaime lived in King's Landing."

"That's true, but…the Lannisters are different than our family. Jaime didn't spend time with the Queen's children."

Arya glared at her. "I'm not stupid. I know he's Jaime's son."

"You mustn't ever say that aloud," Sansa hissed, looking to be sure they were alone. "Jaime could be executed for treason if anyone found out." It seemed Arya had not considered that possibility, as she seemed stricken by Sansa's words. "Tommen is going to live here with us, so you should get used to him. You might like him."

Arya glared at her older sister. "He's a baby. I don't like him."

"Don't like who?" Lady Catelyn asked, taking a seat beside Arya. Her mother never joined them in the morning while Jaime was dining with them, but she would sometimes sit with Sansa and Julianna while Sansa finished her tea.

Sansa adjusted Julianna on her lap. "Tommen…Margaery Tyrell fled the capitol and brought him here. To live."

"He's to stay here?" Sansa could tell from her mother's tone that she disapproved. Arya scurried out of the dining room and Sansa could have throttled her for bringing this topic up in front of thier mother and then running off.

"There's nowhere else for him to go," Sansa said quietly. "No one else to take care of him."

"He expects you to raise his bastard then? A bastard he fathered on his own sister?" Sansa looked at her mother and saw such anger. She supposed she understood why.

"It's not the same as with Jon," she whispered, rubbing her hand over Julianna's back as the babe turned to snuggle against her. "Jaime…he's never broken any vows he made to me. Tommen was born long before I even met him." She saw that her words had hurt her mother and immediately regretted them. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry, Mother. I didn't mean to upset you."

"You're not wrong, Sansa. Your father did break his vows to me. And I was forced to look at another woman's child for all of my marriage. A child that was a living breathing reminder that my husband betrayed me. I was forced to have another woman's child in my home and at my table, who looked more like my husband than all of my own, save Arya. As will you, now."

Sansa couldn't deny that Tommen favored Jaime far more than Julianna did, but it didn't bother her. She didn't question Jaime's love for her daughter. "Father…he loved all of us, whether we looked like him or not."

"I know that he did. Your father loved you very much. You were his perfect little girl." She watched her mother smile at the memory before returning to the present conversation. "After all he's put you through – all his family has put you through – I can't believe he would ask this of you."

"He didn't. He was talking of where Tommen could be sent. I insisted that he stay with us. He's just a scared little boy – he's nothing like his mother – and he belongs with us. Jaime and I are…we're his parents." She looked down at the babe in her arms. "Julianna is his sister. I want them to love one another, as they should."

"I hope you know what you're getting into, my love," her mother said, taking the babe from her arms and fussing over her. "Don't fool yourself into thinking it will be easy raising Cersei Lannister's son."

"It's the right thing to do. It's the honorable thing to do. And I am so very fond of little Tommen. He is such a good boy, mother. You will be kind to him, won't you? He's nothing like her or Joffrey, I promise. He's so shy and scared. It would help him if everyone here were to welcome him."

Her mother studied her for a moment before sighing deeply. "You love him far too much for your own good," she murmured quietly.

"Tommen?"

"No, my love, Jaime Lannister. He's very fortunate that you are so unconditional in your love, Sansa."

"Isn't that how marriage is supposed to be, Mother?" Lady Catelyn's expression softened when she saw the earnest expression on her daughter's face. "It's what I learned growing up. Watching you and father. I always knew how much the two of you loved each other, and I knew nothing would ever change that."

Sansa smiled as her mother leaned over and kissed her temple. "I don't know why I worried that your time in the capitol would have affected your sweetness. Tommen is very fortunate that you are Jaime's wife."

…

_Next chapter: More Jaime/Tommen bonding time and News from the Northern Battlefield_

_As always, thank you so much for all of the reviews and interest in the coming chapters. It's definitely a challenge to try to bring everything together and slowly integrate the other characters and what's going on around Westeros with the war. I absolutely read and consider all of your comments and suggestions about things you wish to see in the story. Thank you!_


	61. Chapter 61

Chapter 61

As Jaime led Tommen by the hand towards the crypts of Casterly Rock, he began to regret volunteering to take him to visit Cersei's final resting place. Sansa had said that she would take Tommen down to see Cersei's crypt, but Jaime didn't think it was right for him to allow her to do such a thing. Not after all that Cersei had done to her – including sending an assassin to kill her and Julianna. Tommen was _his_ responsibility – he and Cersei had created him - and he was the one who should complete this grim task.

"Which way are we going, Uncle Jaime?" he asked quietly.

"Just down here. You don't have to go down to the crypts, you know. Your mother…she knew that you loved her. And she knows that you love her still."

"But I didn't get to say goodbye," he whispered, his eyes filling with tears. The sight of his bright green eyes filled with tears looked exactly like Julianna's eyes when she was scared or tired, and clung to Jaime for comfort. He felt a desire to stop the boy's pain stir inside of him as Tommen continued.

"She didn't even tell me when she left King's Landing to come here and see you. Before that she'd been in the Great Sept for weeks. And when she returned, I did not see her much. I was usually with…with Margaery and Ser Loras. I miss them, too," he said, whispering the last as if he thought Jaime might be angry.

Jaime didn't know what to do to comfort the boy, feeling even more guilt than before, knowing that he'd taken Cersei from him when Tommen had already been missing her presence in his life. He settled for holding the little boy's hand tightly as they continued walking. Tommen froze, dropping his hand, when Jaime opened the door to the crypts, and the cold, dry air hit him in the face. Jaime knelt down beside him, resting the golden hand on his back.

"Are you all right?" He nodded, though Jaime saw that he was not. "You have nothing to fear, Tommen. You are far braver than you might think." Jaime hesitated before continuing. "There is Lannister blood in your veins. You have blood of the lion. And a lion does not fear anything."

He could see that Tommen was considering his words carefully before he nodded and reached for Jaime's hand again, gripping it tightly. "You won't let go of my hand, will you, Uncle Jaime?"

"Of course not."

He walked with the little boy, slowly leading him to Cersei's resting place. Jaime felt his own heart pounding in his chest, the deeper they walked into the crypts. Jaime had not been there since he and Sansa had interred Lord Tywin. He was ashamed to admit it, but Sansa's presence had made the experience bearable and he found himself wishing she were with them now. _I tell Tommen to be a brave lion, but I myself am a coward longing for my little wife for comfort._

As difficult as it had been to entomb his father, the idea of visiting Cersei's final resting place filled Jaime with dread. He knew that he was being ridiculous in his apprehension of entering the crypts. He'd not seen Cersei since she took her last breaths, asking Lady Alys to see to it that she was interred as quickly as possible, once one of the maids had discovered her body. He couldn't bear to look upon his dead twin again, and had not been present when her tomb had been sealed. Now, as he walked towards her final resting place, he felt his own grip on Tommen's hand tighten as they made their way through the darkened crypt. Tommen was carrying the torch in his free hand, since he clung to Jaime's only good one.

Jaime stopped in front of Cersei's crypt saw that Lady Alys had placed a ring of roses made of cloth of gold on the marble slab covering her grave. He remembered a winter when he was a child, not long after his mother had died, when he and Cersei had made such flowers for Lady Joanna's grave. He was glad someone had seen to putting something on Cersei's grave. Despite what she'd done, she was still his sister, and he had loved her. Jaime felt torn in so many directions, between his blinding rage at Cersei for her actions toward Sansa, hurt at her faithlessness toward him, sadness for Tommen's loss of a mother, and disbelief that he still lived while she did not.

"She's in there?" Tommen asked quietly, looking at the gleaming marble before him, and bringing Jaime back to the present.

"Yes," Jaime said. "Lord Tywin and Lady Joanna are right beside her. She's not alone down here. She's near our parents." He knew the words were more comforting to him than to Tommen. The boy handed him the torch, which Jaime placed in the hook on the wall and watched as Tommen touched the cold white marble, running his hand over the smooth surface. He knelt beside the boy, resting his own hand on the marble slab that covered Cersei's body.

_Why did it have to end this way? Our lives could have been so different. _Jaime wished more than anything that Cersei had not felt that she needed him to give up his life for her – to give up having a wife and family – all so that he could do her bidding. _Why did she desire power and the throne so much, when I never cared for either?_ He wondered when he stopped seeing her for who she really was. _I'll take care of Tommen. I promise you that, Sister._

"Do you miss her, uncle Jaime?" Tommen asked, sitting on Jaime's knee.

Jaime was startled by the child's desire to be close to him, but found it oddly comforting, as well. "Sometimes…Sometimes I miss her so much it hurts."

"Me, too."

"When Cersei and I were your age, growing up here at the Rock, we did everything together. She always used to say that we were two halves of the same person." He looked at Tommen. "Of course, after a time, that all changed. We grew up. I became a knight of the Kingsguard, living in King's Landing and serving the Mad King, while she remained here at the Rock. Then she became queen, and we were together once more but…it was different." Jaime stopped before he said too much. "She loved you very much, Tommen. She loved her children very much, and she always did what she believed was best for your future."

He nodded, leaning against back against Jaime's chest. "I wish mother was here with us. I wish that bad man had not killed her." Jaime closed his eyes, a wave of guilt coursing over him. He knew he'd done the right thing for Sansa and Julianna. Cersei would not have stopped until they were both dead. But he regretted causing Tommen pain and making him an orphan. He wished his sister would have thought of Tommen. He wished she would have worried about being a mother to him – about taking care of him – rather than trying to separate he and Sansa.

"Did you wish to say anything?" Jaime asked, eager to be out of there.

He saw that Tommen was seriously considering his words before nodding and kneeling down before the marble slab once more. Jaime rose and stood behind him, listening to the child's heartfelt words.

"I miss you, Mother. Perhaps you're happy to be with Joffy again. And Grandfather. I'll be all right," he whispered, his voice breaking. "Sansa and Uncle Jaime will take care of me. They promised that I can live with them until I'm grown. And that my kittens can live here, too. I promise to not to be a baby…and not to shame you. I'll be a brave lion, like you always wanted. Sansa says she and Uncle Jaime will love me and protect me always," he said, his voice breaking as he started to cry.

As he listened to Tommen's words, Jaime was overwhelmed with guilt and wished the loathsome Tyrells had not brought the boy to the Rock. He wished they had taken him to Highgarden and raised him and kept him safe themselves. Jaime knew he was a terrible father. Worse even than King Robert had been. Not only did he have no relationship with the boy, but he'd taken away his mother. _I killed the only parent the little boy had left in the world. And yet I would still wish him away. I'd give anything not to see the pain I've caused him._

Jaime hated that poor Sansa was now forced to raise the boy. It wasn't fair to her. It felt wrong for him to allow her to do such a thing, though he knew she had genuine affection for Tommen. _She'll not resent me for it. She'll treat him better –and be more of a parent to him – than any of his actual parents, King Robert included._

Jaime realized Tommen was speaking to him and forced himself to pay attention. "What was that, Tommen?"

"When it is spring again, may I bring mother flowers?"

"Of course," Jaime said, nodding, and reaching for the torch, noticing that Tommen, after briefly examining it, took his golden hand as they left the crypts. He walked quickly with Tommen, wanting nothing more than to turn him back over to Sansa so he could try to forget the sight of his son's misery at Cersei's death. _A misery that I caused._

…

"Daenerys Targaryen – the Dragon Queen - is marching South," Ser Addam said, handing over the parchment he'd received from the Maester. "King's Landing is preparing itself for her arrival in two moons. There's no word if Stannis is dead or was merely defeated, but the girl and her forces have been sighted marching south of the Wall."

Jaime leaned his sword against the stone wall as he took the missive sent by Ser Kevan. He'd been practicing with Arya when the raven had arrived.

"Perhaps Robert was correct in his desire to have she and her brother killed." Jaime continued reading the letter, which did not seek additional Lannister soldiers. Ser Kevan merely wished for Casterly Rock to be prepared in the event that Kings Landing fell, or should the Targaryen girl bypass the capitol all together and march straight for the Rock. "What is this army she marches with? Certainly not the Dothraki?"

Ser Addam shook his head. "No, the Dothraki would never have crossed the narrow sea for her. It appears she's acquired – perhaps purchased – soldiers from abroad. They aren't from Westeros. They aren't…her people, in any sense of the word."

Jaime glanced over at Arya, who was clearly interested in their discussion. "How does she expect to hold to the Realm, when she herself has never set foot here, except to invade?"

"That is how the Targaryens conquered the Realm in the first place."

Jaime nodded. "See to it that our soldiers increase their training, and begin drills to hold the castle." He doubted the girl would miss the chance to try to claim the Iron Thone, though he supposed it was entirely possibly that she would continue marching, seeking out Jaime – the man who killed her father.

"Of course, I'll begin the drills today but…if the tales of dragons are true –"

"Then there is little we can do. Bring me any further messages as soon as they arrive."

Ser Addam nodded his agreement before heading toward the soldier's barracks.

"Are there really dragons?" Arya asked, her eyes glowing with the prospect of magic.

"You should hope there are not. The Targaryen girl will certainly wish to see Casterly Rock burned to the ground, much Harrenhal was. You saw the ruin it is now."

"Why would she do that? Why would she burn the Rock?"

Jaime picked up his sword again and sat, sharpening it with a whetstone. "What did your father teach you about Robert's Rebellion – how it ended? How the Lannisters ended the Rebellion?"

"You killed the Mad King as your father and his soldiers sacked King's Landing." He smiled to himself as Arya stumbled over her words a bit, hesitant to utter the words that he'd killed the Mad King.

"And then? What of Princess Elia and her children? Prince Rhaeger Targaryen's children?"

"They were all killed and the dead children were presented to King Robert by your father, Lord Tywin."

Jaime nodded, not looking at the little girl seated beside him. "So you understand why the Targaryen girl would want me, and any other Lannister, dead and Casterly Rock destroyed."

"But the king was mad."

"And he was also her father. I imagine she would put quite a prize on the head of the Kingslayer."

"I won't let her hurt you," Arya said, and Jaime saw that the child clearly believed she could take on an entire army.

"Do you plan to slay a dragon for me?" Jaime asked with a smile. He could see the girl was considering it, and knew he should reassure her. "It will take her many months to reach Casterly Rock, in any case. There are many men in King's Landing. Every Lannister soldier who isn't here is in the capitol, as well as all men sword to Highgarden. That's more than a hundred thousand soldiers, Arya. It won't be so easy to sack King's Landing as it was for my father during the Rebellion."

That seemed to calm her fears a bit, though Jaime was not entirely certain of their continued safety, should dragonfire rain down on them. He knew he, Ser Addam and the Maester would have to spend some time this afternoon going over maps and planning possible strategies, should Daenerys Targaryen lay siege to Casterly Rock. Jaime was already in a foul mood after his morning in the crypts with Tommen. This news did little to improve his mood.

"Are you glad your son is here?" he heard Arya whisper quietly from her seat beside him. He turned to look at her and saw sadness in her expression.

"He's never been my son," Jaime said pointedly. "He has nowhere else to go and…Sansa is right that he belongs here, at the Rock."

"Can we still practice together?" she asked, and he could see now that she expected that he would abandon their friendship now that Tommen was living at Casterly Rock.

"Though I expect Tommen would give me far less trouble than you do…I would very much miss it if you and I did not continue as we have been."

She looked away from him, but he could see the smile forming on her lips. "That's what Sansa said."

"Your sister's a smart girl."

"Is it wrong that we're friends?" she asked suddenly. "Lannisters and Starks are supposed to hate each other. My father did not like you."

Jaime laughed. "He did not. Your father and I were very different. But I don't think it's wrong that we're friends or that Sansa and I are wed. In times of war, in difficult times, sometimes you see a side of a person you might not otherwise see and sometimes you are forced to rely on and trust a person you might not otherwise." He saw that Arya was taking in his every word. "And when you do that, you may realize that person is not who you thought they were. You're certainly not the brat I believed you to be when we first met."

She scowled at him – not unlike her sister – though she finally nodded and sat closer to him, watching as he cleaned his now sharpened sword. He wanted to ask if this is what she would do with her father, but decided not to, knowing that the child was already struggling with guilt over their friendship. _How is it so easy to have a friendship with her, but so difficult for me to have a relationship with my own son?_

…

After returning from Tommen down to the crypts, Sansa had quietly suggested to Jaime that Tommen might wish to join he and Arya for their practice, but he had said the boy was too little and left him with her. She wondered what had happened when he took Tommen to say farewell to Cersei. She sensed a distance between them – at least a distance from Jaime - even more so than before.

Tommen had spent the day with she and Julianna. Sansa had suggested that he might like to read the baby a story, and the three of them had gone to the library to select a book, and then settled on the large couch in Sansa's sitting room. Tommen read aloud, and did rather well, only needing Sansa's help with a few of the bigger words. Julianna didn't understand a word, of course, but Tommen seemed to enjoy acting as a big brother to the baby and she thought it was good for him to practice reading.

She supposed they would eventually have to find someone to oversee the children's education, but Sansa didn't see any rush. She could work with Tommen on his studies for the time being. While Julianna napped they had done some math problems together and then she had left him in his room, playing with his kittens until dinner.

Jaime had been noticeably withdrawn during dinner, not speaking much to her or to Tommen. She had hoped that going together to Cersei's crypt would bring them closer together, but it appeared that was not to be the case. She could see that he had a lot on his mind – and wondered what it was exactly – but knew it wasn't the time to inquire. After dinner, Sansa sent Jaime off to their chamber with Julianna, while she put Tommen to bed herself. She wasn't sure how to ask Jaime what had happened in the crypts and she certainly wasn't going to bring it up to the little boy as she tucked him in for the night.

By the time she returned to their chamber, Jaime was stretched out on the bed, wearing only his breeches, waiting for her. "Where were we last night before being so inconveniently interrupted?"

Sansa shook her head at the lecherous smirk he gave her, and quietly snuck over to the bassinette and peered in, seeing that her baby was sleeping peacefully. She turned back to Jaime and removed her slippers, climbing onto the bed with him.

"You've far too much clothing on right now, sweet girl."

She kissed his chest before resting her head on it, hearing his heart beat beneath her cheek. "What happened when you took him to the crypts?" she asked quietly, feeling his whole body tense at her question, though he continued stroking her hair.

"He said his farewells and spoke of how much he misses his mother. And how sad he is that the bad man killed her." Sansa felt her insides twist at his words, knowing how they must have tortured Jaime to hear. "You may have to accept that there is something wrong with me, Sansa," he said quietly. "I may not be capable of loving the boy."

"I don't believe that's true. He's your son, your blood. Whatever you feel now, Jaime," she began, trying to be gentle as she sat up beside him and met his eyes, "He is yours, and you have a duty to him. And he's here now – you can't just pretend he's not."

"It was your brilliant idea that we keep him here," Jaime said with a tone that stung her a bit. He rose from the bed and poured a cup of wine before sitting down again. "I'm sorry, forgive me," he said, seeing her expression. "I'm not angry with you."

"Who are you angry with?"

"There were never supposed to be children. I still don't know how it happened. How my bastards ended up sitting on the Iron Throne." He said the last in a tortured whisper. "The…madness between us…between Cersei and I…it was supposed to end when she married. I wasn't supposed to fall in love with her. I had told myself it was only…childish experimentation. Then Robert rejected her on their wedding night. He called her 'Lyanna' and she hated him for it. She wanted to hurt him. What better way than to take the Iron Throne from him? Of course, she couldn't take it from him herself, but she could take it through her child. A child that was all hers. That's what Joffrey was. A pure Lannister. I never thought she would deliberately get pregnant with my child. That she would place him on the throne. And turn him into a monster."

Jaime drained his cup of wine and leaned back on the bed, his head against the pillows. Sansa felt a bit unsettled herself, hearing Jaime speak so plainly of his lifetime affair with his twin sister.

"Tommen's not a monster," Sansa said quietly. "As much…as much cruelty as was in Joffrey, is how much good and sweetness is in Tommen. Don't you see how much he wants you to love him?"

"You're the one he wants love from. He'd probably stab me in the heart if he thought it meant you'd share his bed, rather than mine."

"Stop it," she said, laughing. "He is your son, Jaime. You will love him in time."

"What if I don't?"

Sansa smiled and crawled over to Jaime, stretching out beside him. She kissed the corner of his mouth. "You will, Jaime. I promise you will. Don't worry so much about loving him as his father. Just get to know him, as you did with Arya. It's no different. If you could win _her_ over, you can certainly form a relationship with Tommen."

"Stannis Baratheon was defeated at the Wall by the Targaryen girl," he said quietly, running his hand over Sansa's back.

"Then it's a good thing Tommen's here, and not in the Red Keep. Another battle would scare him."

"And if the war comes here, to the Rock?"

"Do you think that will happen?" she asked nervously.

"I don't know. Ser Addam's begun preparations with the soldiers. I hope the war stays far away. I'd never wish to see you anywhere near a real battlefield. At any rate, it will be many months before anyone could reach the Rock. We'll have plenty of time to prepare, should the battle come further south."

Sansa felt reassured. She knew Jaime would not allow any harm to come to her or their baby. Or to Tommen. She began kissing his chest, her fingers trailing up to his hair. She giggled as she felt his hand on her back, pulling at the laces of her gown.

"Go bolt the door?" he asked, reaching for the laces of his breeches. "I'll not tolerate any interruptions tonight."

Sansa did as he asked, shedding her own clothing as she returned to their bed. She and Jaime made love and Sansa hoped that he would forget whatever was troubling him. She loved him so much and she knew that little Tommen's affection could help to ease his guilt and pain over killing Cersei.

When she woke in the night to feed the babe, Sansa unlocked the door to their chamber and slipped on Jaime's tunic, just in case, Tommen needed her during the night. Sure enough, Sansa awoke to find that Tommen had snuck into bed with them. The boy was curled up beside her, his arm slung across her middle, dead asleep. She was glad that she had unlocked the door, the thought of little Tommen coming to her and finding himself locked out broke her heart. Though, she could see Jaime was less than thrilled to have company in their bed yet again.

…

_Next Chapters: The White Walkers reach Lannisport…_


	62. Chapter 62

Chapter 62

Tommen had been living with them at Casterly Rock for a little over a week. It seemed to Sansa that he was settling in and feeling more comfortable there. Though every night, after Jaime and Sansa fell asleep, the little boy snuck into their bed and curled up beside her. It appeared this night would be no different. She had only tucked Tommen into bed a few hours earlier when the door to their chamber slowly creaked open. She turned her head and sighed, seeing that Tommen was crawling into bed beside her again. She knew Jaime would be annoyed and would not allow it to continue for much longer. He had told her the night before that Tommen had to sleep in his own bed.

"What's the matter?" she whispered.

"I woke up and couldn't fall back asleep. May I sleep here with you, Sansa?"

Sansa carefully turned to face him, extricating herself from Jaime's arms and hoped she would not wake him. She let Tommen cuddle in her arms, and kissed the top of his head. "Don't you want to sleep in your own bed with your kittens?"

"I like it here," he said quietly. "I like being with you and Uncle Jaime."

Sansa was torn. She knew it was better for him to sleep in his own chamber, but he was so sweet and it was such a small request. She was about to give in when Jaime made the decision for her.

"Tommen, you need to sleep in your own bed," Jaime grumbled from over her shoulder.

His little chin wavered, no doubt at the irritation in Jaime's tone. "Sansa doesn't have to sleep in her own bed. Why do you get to sleep with Sansa when I don't?"

"Because she's my wife, not yours."

Sansa wanted to laugh at Jaime fighting with a little boy over who got to sleep next to her. "Are you actually jealous of a nine-year-old?" she whispered.

Jaime sighed. "Tommen, you need to go to your own bed chamber." Sansa knew he had meant to be firm, but his tone sounded angry to her ears and she could see Tommen felt the same way.

Tommen shrank back and started to get out of their bed having been suitably chastised. "I'll walk you back to your chamber," Sansa said gently. "We both will," she added, looking back at Jaime. He looked at her, the question apparent in his eyes. She knew that he would not learn to love Tommen as long as she took sole responsibility for taking care of him. Though it was easier for Sansa to just take care of Tommen herself, she needed to prod Jaime a bit and force him to be more involved with his son.

"He's just not used to having children around and taking care of them," Sansa said to Tommen. "He'll learn, though. Come along, Jaime."

Sansa didn't give him the chance to refuse her and Jaime sighed deeply and pulled on his breeches, following his wife and son out the door and down the hall to the bedchamber that had been given to Tommen. He stoked the fire while Sansa helped Tommen into bed. He watched her sit on the bed beside him, and Tommen curled up next to her, his head against her shoulder.

"I love you, Sansa."

She smiled, hugging him tightly. He'd just begun to tell her that he loved her, and she worried at first that it would upset Jaime because she wasn't actually his mother. She was afraid he would think it was a betrayal of Cersei, but Jaime had heard Tommen say it, and didn't seem to care.

"I love you, too, darling boy. Jaime, come sit with us," she said, patting the other side of Tommen. He sat down, though he didn't seem particularly comfortable. She knew he'd rather be back in bed in their chamber. She usually left Jaime to look after Julianna, but she knew he needed to care for both of his children.

"What if I have bad dreams?" Tommen asked, looking up at Sansa. "Am I not allowed to come to you?"

Sansa looked at Jaime, wishing he would reassure the boy. "If you wake up and are afraid, remember that you are a lion. You have nothing to fear, Tommen. You belong here at Casterly Rock and no one will harm you."

Tommen nodded, though he did not seem convinced. "Am I ever allowed in your bedchamber?"

"In the morning, when it's time to wake up, you may come to our chamber and we'll walk downstairs together to break our fast."

Sansa took his little hand. "And if you're truly afraid, you can come find me."

"Will you tell me a story, Sansa?"

Sansa put her feet up on the bed, pulling Tommen onto her lap. He wrapped his arms around her neck, resting his head against her. She could see he was watching Jaime, no doubt wondering if he was angry with him.

"I am going to tell you the story of a brave and handsome knight – the best and most handsome in all the Realm. He spent his whole life being a brave warrior and winning every battle he ever fought, and every tournament he ever entered. The crowds would cheer when they saw his golden armor and his enemies would tremble in fear when he drew his sword. Every little boy wanted to be him when they grew up. And every little girl dreamed of being his lady wife."

Jaime gave her a withering look, clearly seeing that she was speaking about him and Sansa smiled cheekily.

"He had not married, devoting his life to being a warrior. Though one day, the knight realized he was getting rather old not to have a lady wife," she said with a smile, looking at Jaime who shook his head in annoyance. "And his father, a great and powerful lord, betrothed him to a young girl the knight had never met."

"She was quite beautiful," Jaime interrupted, "Though rather impertinent in her manner of speaking to the knight."

Sansa continued her story keeping her eyes on Jaime's as she spoke. "The knight and the maiden were unsure of each other at first – both afraid the other would not love them. And the knight feared he did not know how to love his new lady wife. But they slowly began to trust each other. They fell in love, and neither could imagine their lives without the other."

"Some time passed, and soon the knight and his lady wife were raising a little boy, who was so like his father, and a little girl. At first, it was difficult for the knight to be a father to the children, because he did not know how. He was used to a solitary life, the life of a warrior. But he was patient and learned to be the best father either child could ever hope for. They became a very happy family."

Sansa stroked the boy's hair gently, looking down and seeing that Tommen had fallen asleep. Jaime lifted the sleeping boy off her lap and helped her slide him under the furs, resting his head on the pillows. She leaned over and kissed Tommen's forehead. "Sweet dreams," she whispered.

The kittens had piled onto the bed as Sansa had told Tommen her story, and Jaime looked at them now with dismay, as they settled around the boy's legs, curled in little balls. "Should we remove the cats?" he whispered to Sansa who shook her head.

"They'll keep him warm, and make him feel safe if he wakes again and they're next to him. It's reassuring to him when his little pets are nearby." Sansa took Jaime's hand, and led him into the hall, quietly closing the door behind them.

"You're good with him. Far better than I could ever be."

She shrugged. "I grew up with three younger siblings. You'll learn, Jaime."

"Interesting story you told," he said with a smirk, and Sansa giggled. "You'll teach me, won't you? How to be a father."

She smiled and wrapped her arms around him, resting her head against his chest. "I don't know that you need to be taught. You learned to love me on your own, didn't you? You learned to be everything I could have ever hoped for in a husband." She listened to his heartbeat and his breathing as Jaime rubbed her back. "And no one had to teach you to be a father to Julianna. She loves you and trusts you more than anything, Jaime. I know you can make Tommen feel just as safe. We're going to raise him together. You're not on your own."

Sansa tilted her face up to look at him and Jaime gripped her chin, kissing her soundly. "It's time I get my sweet little wife back to bed."

…

Jaime awoke to Sansa kissing his neck, and snuggling in his arms. He tightened his grip around her, breathing in her scent as he nuzzled the top of her head. He loved these mornings in bed with her. Since Julianna had been born, they had been a bit scarce as she demanded Sansa's attention most mornings. Not that he regretted his baby girl for a moment, but he enjoyed the mornings when the babe slept later than normal and he had Sansa all to himself.

Jaime heard the door creak open and glanced over as he rubbed Sansa's back and saw Tommen peeking in, though he immediately shrank back when he met Jaime's gaze, obviously afraid that he wasn't allowed in their bedchamber. _You did tell the boy he could come into your chamber when he woke in the morning._

"Come on in," Jaime said, and Tommen smiled brightly, running over and climbing onto their bed.

Sansa looked up at Jaime and he could see she was fighting to hold back her laughter as Tommen crawled between them, resting his head on Sansa's shoulder. He knew it amused her that he at times felt as if Tommen was fighting him for her affection.

"Did you sleep well?" she asked, kissing the boy's forehead. He nodded against her shoulder. "I dreamt that Uncle Jaime was teaching me to joust." He turned to face Jaime, his eyes glittering. "I remember watching you joust in tourneys. My favorite was when you unhorsed Ser Gregor at Myrcella's last nameday tournament. Ser Gregor scares me…I was glad you beat him. I'm going to be a knight just like you, Uncle Jaime."

Jaime was surprised by his words. He had never spoken much with Tommen and had no idea he had watched him so closely, nor that he admired him as much as he appeared to. "I asked mother if you could teach me to be a knight, but she said that I was too little and clumsy and that you did not have time for such foolishness. That you were far too busy in the Kingsguard."

Sansa ruffled the boy's hair and looked at Jaime. He could see from the set of her jaw that she was angry at Cersei's efforts to prevent a relationship between he and Tommen. He thought of how Sansa had suggested that Tommen might like to watch he and Arya practice. _And I rejected him just as Cersei said I would._ He supposed he could spend a few hours with the boy.

"Well, Tommen, we can't joust here in the castle but…perhaps you'd like to learn to swing a sword? You could come with me and Arya when we practice this morning."

Tommen smiled and looked as though he did not dare hope what Jaime was offering him was true. Jaime felt Sansa's hand stroking his jaw and met her eyes. "I love you," she mouthed and he knew she was proud of his overture to Tommen. He'd considered her words the previous night and, though he knew in his heart he would never feel the same fierce, protective love for Tommen that he felt whenever he held Julianna, he thought that perhaps he could form a friendship with the boy.

…

After breakfast, as he walked Arya and Tommen to the hallway that they used for practice, Jaime could tell that Arya wasn't happy that the boy was practicing with them. He and Sansa had spoken about her jealousy and possessiveness of him, when it came to Tommen. Sansa had suggested that he make sure Arya didn't feel replaced – that he let her help him teach Tommen so that she was still a part of what they were doing.

Arya danced around, practicing with the sword Jaime had given her, as he showed Tommen how to grip the small wooden practice sword he was using.

"Arya, put down the real sword, for now. The two of you are going to use wooden ones." She looked at Jaime in annoyance before turning her gaze to Tommen who was clumsily and inartfully slashing the air with the wooden sword. He could see the disgust in her expression as she watched Tommen's attempts at sword play. Jaime knelt down beside Arya. "I know you're far beyond him in your skills with a sword, but he wants to learn. It won't kill you to help me teach him for an hour or two, and then he'll go back to Sansa. And you and I can practice alone. All right?"

"All right," she said grudgingly, picking up a wooden sword.

Arya behaved relatively well during their practice, and Jaime quickly saw that Tommen was in awe of her. Even her clear frustration with the younger boy did nothing to diminish his admiration of her. Tommen was quite clumsy, but he was determined. Jaime had little doubt that he would work hard to learn how to be a knight. _He is just a little boy. There's time for him to acquire the skills needed._

…

After Tommen's introduction to swinging a sword, Jaime had escorted him back to Sansa's sitting room so he and Arya could practice alone, as he had promised. Little Tommen had been brimming with excitement, eager to show Sansa all that he had learned.

He and Arya had practiced together, and he was impressed with how much progress she had made since they first began training together. After their practice, Jaime sat beside Arya, showing her how to sharpen her sword with a whetstone when Ser Addam barged in and he was more distressed than Jaime had ever seen him, and they had known one another their entire lives.

"Reports are coming from Lannisport…whole families have been found dead, torn limb from limb. It's unnatural enough that they are burning the bodies. Though, there have also been reports of bodies…vanishing. And sometimes returning to life and attacking anyone in their paths. It seems your lady wife's brother was right. The White Walkers are no longer only beyond the Wall. They are in Lannisport."

Jaime didn't want to believe it. He'd never been one to believe tales of magic and fantasy. But he knew that Ser Addam was not one for exaggeration. Jaime glanced over at the window. It was still black as ink out, and would be for several days. He looked down at Arya before returning his gaze to Ser Addam, an idea forming in his head.

"We'll send out 100 men as scouts. Arm them with the dragon glass daggers and arrows that Gendry made, just in case. And plenty of torches so they can burn any dead and so we can monitor their progress. They'll be able to report back and tell us what's out there. We'll watch from the battlements."

"Can I go?" Arya asked, her eyes brimming with curiosity.

Jaime considered for a moment, but realized he was better off taking her with him, lest she tell Sansa what was going on before they were certain. "Don't tell anyone where we're going or what we're doing – not your mother and not your sister. If anyone asks, we're going to the practice grounds. Get your heaviest cloak, and go to my chambers and get mine as well, all right?"

She nodded eagerly before running off.

"You really think it's a good idea to the take the girl? I doubt Lady Stark will appreciate you frightening her."

"If it's true, everyone in the castle will know soon enough. And she doesn't frighten easily. She and Sansa have told me some of the stories they heard as children about the creatures beyond the Wall." He looked at Ser Addam ruefully. "They tell far more horrible tales to children in the North than here in the South. I doubt reality compares to their bedtime stories."

A few moments later, Jaime, Arya and Ser Addam met in the lift, so they could watch the progress of their scouts from the top of the battlements. Arya gripped Jaime's arm and looked so excited she might burst when the doors to the lift closed and they began to rise toward the top of the Rock. He had taken Sansa to the top of the Rock, but he'd not taken Arya before. Though she'd been curious about the lift and where it led.

Jaime cursed Winter when the doors opened and he was hit in the face with snow and freezing wind. He didn't understand how the Stark girls could possibly love the snow and cold as much as they did. He knew Arya hated being treated as a child, but she was so slight and the wind so fierce Jaime feared she could be carried right off the Rock, and took her hand as they stepped out to look over the battlements.

"Are you too cold?" he asked, fearing she was freezing as he was, but she shook her head, her eyes alive with delight. Jaime and Ser Addam moved toward the edge, to look out over Lannisport. Arya stood before Jaime, resting one hand on the edge, which was high enough to come to the middle of her chest. Her tight grip on Jaime's hand was the only indication that she was the least bit nervous when she looked over and saw just how high up they were.

It took Jaime a moment to orient himself and for his eyes to adjust to the darkness. Eventually, he was able to pick out the gates separating the road leading to the Rock from the rest of Lannisport. He looked around and spotted his soldiers, their torches blazing, as they neared the gate.

"Do you see them there?" he asked, pointing for Arya's benefit.

"When will they meet the White Walkers?" she asked, more excited than scared. For a moment, Jaime marveled over how different the two Stark girls were. He could only imagine Sansa's terror were she in her sister's position right now.

"I don't know, Arya."

"Keep your eyes open for any movement. It will be difficult to see, due to the darkness, but they carry many torches. It should make it easier to track their movements," Ser Addam said, his eyes also scanning the areas around their scouts, as they exited the gates, closing them behind.

Jaime was beginning to think this was a fool's errand, and that it was a single band of looters or rebels responsible for the deaths in Lannisport, when they heard, rather than saw, the first sign of trouble. A piercing scream reached their ears, though Jaime could barely see what was going on below. As he continued to stare out, he saw glowing blue. _Their eyes_. They were tiny from their distance, but the color and the glowing was unnatural in the blackness.

As his eyes adjusted even more to the darkness, with the benefit of the many torches his men carried, Jaime was able to see the foes his men fought. They were unnaturally tall and slender, with glowing swords that looked to almost be made of glass. He was too far way to make out any other features, but there was no doubt in his mind that what he saw was not human. Jaime could scarce believe what he was seeing. It was one of Tyrion's tales come to life. There appeared to be a small army of humans with the same unnatural eyes. Jaime struggled to remember Tyrion's recitation of the history of the White Walkers. _The undead wights. Those the White Walkers killed, come back to life._ Jaime rested his hand on Arya's shoulder as she shrank back towards him in fear as the screams continued.

"They can't get near us up here, Arya," he murmured as he continued watching the confrontation below.

Jaime felt his blood run cold as his men tried to fight – momentarily stunned by just what it was they were fighting - and he heard the screams as they were killed. Then they seemed to remember the dragon glass and that they should use their torches as weapons and began cutting through the White Walkers and driving back the wights.

As brave as she was, Arya moved closer to Jaime and he held her against him, trying to alleviate her fear. As they watched, his men weren't able to kill them all. Though they were able to fight them off enough that most of the red cloaks made it back inside the gates and began moving with all haste back towards Casterly Rock. Both Jaime and Ser Addam watched carefully to be sure that none of the White Walkers had made it inside the gates.

Jaime, Addam and Arya got back into the lift, waiting for the soldiers below to turn the crank and return them to the bottom.

"Perhaps we can round up the citizens of Lannisport, or distribute the dragonglass weapons until they move further South." He could tell Ser Addam was shaken, and barely registered Jaime's words.

"They - they won't move South until all of Lannisport is dead."

"You don't know that," Jaime reasoned, some part of him hoping that the White Walkers would simply leave the Westerlands. _That won't stop the brutal deaths. They will continue to kill._

Jaime sighed. He knew it would be easier to simply make the White Walkers – these monsters - someone else's problem. It would be so easy to stay safely behind the walls of the Rock with Sansa and all the others. _There are many others out there who can fight them. We can wait it out until Winter ends. _But Jaime was a knight. Whatever missteps he had made in the past, he had vowed to protect the Realm. He had vowed to protect the innocent. Perhaps this was his chance to prove his honor. Another chance to protect the Realm.

"We have to form a larger party – thousands. I'll take the lead. We'll leave Casterly Rock at the next dawn, and not return until they are all dead."

…

_Thanks so much to all of the reviews. I never get tired of reading them and knowing that the story is appreciated and entertaining all of you. It is amazing to me that the reviews have topped 700. Thank you! We'll get a closer look at the White Walkers soon - this was just their introduction - and I didn't think there would be much detail they could make out from the top of the Rock._

_Next chapter: Sansa learns of Jaime's plan to attack the White Walkers_


	63. Chapter 63

Chapter 63

…

Jaime walked into the forge, Arya trotting along beside him, in search of Gendry, as well as Ser Benedict, his Master at Arms. He knew that they had to make as many weapons as possible before setting out to battle the White Walkers. Jaime struggled to remember what Tyrion had told him about them – his younger brother was the one who was always interested in magic and monsters. Tyrion must have read half a hundred books about the White Walkers and the great battle that led to the building of the Wall. Jaime had only half-listened when Tyrion recounted the stories, and he regretted it now.

"Gendry," Jaime called out as he neared the fires.

"Yes, Lord Lannister?" he said, standing at attention.

"How many daggers were you able to make? And how many arrows?" Jaime had allowed Arya and Sansa to take a large rock of dragonglass from Tyrion's room down to the forge to use for weapons, after receiving Jon Snow's letter. This was after much convincing from the Stark girls, since Jaime thought it ridiculous. Now, he was rather glad he had given in to them.

"Ser Addam took most of the dragonglass blades today. Though he didn't say why. Here's what's left," Gendry said, gesturing to less than a handful of blades and half as many arrowheads on one of the worktables.

_We're certainly going to need more daggers and many more arrowheads. I'll need to arm thousands of my men._ "Did you use all of the obsidian the girls brought you?"

"Aye, m'lord. All of it. Lady Arya insisted."

Arya piped up in her own defense. "We needed as many as possible. We should have made more." She turned to Gendry. "Did Ser Addam tell you that the White Walkers have come? And that the dragonglass blades we made worked to kill them?"

"Calm down, Arya," Jaime said, as she got more and more excited.

"The blades _we_ made?" Gendry asked.

"I watched."

Jaime snorted. "You will need to make more, Gendry. Did they take long to make?" he asked. "We'll need hundreds more dragonglass blades."

"Once I learned to work with the stone, I was able make them rather quickly. Though it does take time to forge the handles. Are there really that many of them?"

"We can't be certain how many there are but…I mean to mount an aggressive attack, which means I'll need to take quite a number of men with me. We best get to work. As quickly as possible."

"I can help you," Arya said suddenly. "I can be your squire in battle. And I can kill them with the arrowheads. Jaime, you know I'm good with a bow. Please."

"You are not leaving this castle."

"Why not? It's what we've been practicing for."

"You're not going into battle with me, and that's final. Both your mother and sister would have my head."

Jaime picked up one of the few weapons left, worrying over how few there were. He reminded himself that they did have the weapons that his scouts brought back as well. Jaime wondered if there were other weapons they could make with the glass, which would not require fighting in such close quarters as a dagger would. From what he had seen, he'd prefer if they did not have to get close to the White Walkers. _It's best if we can kill them from as great a distance as possible. The archers will help us, though I certainly can't use a bow and arrow with only one hand_. "Do you have parchment down here?"

Gendry nodded, reaching for several sheets of parchment and a piece of charcoal used to draw. As Jaime began to consider other weapons they could create with the glass blades, he heard Ser Addam entering the forge, and turned to see him carrying a large crate filled with obsidian rocks from Tyrion's quarters, as he had instructed. What Jaime did not expect to see was Edmure Tully following Ser Addam, carrying a second crate of rocks.

He looked at both men, and Ser Addam answered the unasked question. "They heard the screams in the sitting room and went to the window. Lady Lannister and her mother, as well as Lord and Lady Tully. Sansa was concerned that you were part of the battle but I assured her you had not left the castle. Lord Tully insisted on accompanying me here."

"Sometimes I wonder if anyone remembers who the hostages are around here," Jaime murmured in annoyance as he continued to examine one of the dragonglass daggers. "Perhaps we could create some sort of spear or lance – something we could use from far away."

"Is it really the White Walkers? Sansa said that Ned Stark's bastard wrote, warning about them. But, you're certain it's not a band of outlaws?" He could hear the skepticism in Edmure Tully's voice, though if they had been watching from the windows, he should be skeptical no longer.

"They had glowing blue eyes," Arya said, her fear momentarily forgotten. "And an army of wights."

He noticed Lord Tully looking at a drawing of a spear that Jaime was working on with Ser Benedict. "What's to stop them from breaking one of those in half with their bare hands?" Edmure asked. "Aren't they supposed to be quite strong?"

"There should be a number of books in the library about the White Walkers, their histories. My brother Tyrion was quite interested as a child. I suppose someone should read through those." Jaime studied the drawing before him. "We know that dragonglass blades or arrows are necessary to kill the White Walkers. Though, I'd rather not get so close as to have my arms ripped off by them. You have a better idea for a weapon, Tully?"

"I've never been much of a warrior. I'm not the right person to ask but…it seems that what you're making are more Northern types of weapons. Perhaps you should speak to your prisoners. They might have an idea."

Jaime knew that Edmure was right, though he hated to admit it. And the Northerners would certainly have a better idea of how to fight the Others, due to having a better knowledge of their history. "I don't expect they would be particularly excited to help me."

"They'd not be helping just you. They would be helping the Realm. Most of their ancestors fought the White Walkers all those years ago, led by the Starks. I'm certain they would wish to help."

"I don't expect they will see it as anything other than helping me." Jaime sighed, rolling his eyes. "Come along then, Tully, if you're so optimistic. Gendry, start working on the blades, we'll decide what we need to mount them to later. Ser Benedict, I'd like the boy to teach some of your men to work with the dragon glass as well. There's no time to lose."

"Can I come with you? To the dungeons?" Arya asked, following Jaime and Edmure.

Jaime wasn't particularly excited for Arya to hear the insolence that the Northern Lords would likely send his way. He found he rather enjoyed his friendship with the girl, and he didn't want her to feel that she had to choose between him and the Northerners. He was about to send her back upstairs, when Edmure stopped him.

"Her presence might convince them to help," he offered.

"I thought you said they'd be eager to finish the job their ancestors started," Jaime murmured, leading the way as Edmure and Arya trailed after him. He supposed Edmure had a point. The Northerners were sworn to Eddard Stark, and then to Robb Stark. No matter what they thought of him, he had to believe that they had enough honor to help protect Sansa, Arya and Lady Catelyn.

"Kingslayer!" he heard as soon as they entered the dungeons.

"Decided to lock Lord Tully up with us, have you?" Greatjon Umber groused. "Well, we knew it would only be a matter of time before you got tired of keeping him as a lordly prisoner. Best to throw him in with the rest of the trash, eh?"

"We've come for your help," Edmure said, before Jaime could respond, though his appeal did not have the reaction he had expected.

"The Lannisters kill your sworn king and now you help him? We had thought you were a hostage, but it appears you've thrown in with him, just like Lady Sansa. He's _her_ husband, what's your excuse, Tully?"

"This has nothing to do with the war," Jaime began.

"Everything has to do with the war, Kingslayer. Whatever you want, you can forget. We're not helping you."

"The mighty Kingslayer needs the help of his lowly prisoners? The war must not be going well for you Lannisters."

The Northern lords continued shouting and heckling. "Don't worry, Lord Tully has been suitably offensive to me," Jaime said as Arya entered the dungeons and stood next to him. "Lord Umber, I'm here because it seems my honored guests are not the only Northerners here in Lannisport."

"The White Walkers are here," burst Arya, looking at the men as if she were looking for someone she recognized.

"Who's this here?" Lord Umber asked, studying Arya. "She looks like-"

"I'm Arya Stark of Winterfell," she said haughtily. Jaime expected she was offended on his behalf for the hostility of the Northern Lords. "And my brother, Robb, would want you to help."

"Little lady, I don't believe he would wish us to help any Lannister. Certainly not the Kingslayer." He looked at Jaime and Edmure then. "What's this she says about the White Walkers? Do you enjoy scaring little girls with tall tales, Kingslayer?"

"I'm not a little girl!"

Jaime rested his hand on her shoulder to silence her. "Your winter has come and with it your creatures from Beyond the Wall. If you don't believe me, I can offer a letter from Ned Stark's bastard. Or feel free to take a walk outside the gates of Casterly Rock, though you'll likely not return. You may find the remains of several of my soldiers who had the misfortune to encounter them. Unless, of course, they've become wights."

"They had glowing blue eyes. I saw them," Arya said.

The Northerners were clearly skeptical, but they did not dismiss him out of hand. Jaime allowed Arya to describe what they had seen from the battlements, correctly surmising that his prisoners would be more likely to believe her than him. Once she finished her tale, they appeared convinced, judging by the stunned and frightened expressions on their faces. It was little Arya who asked for their help with the weapons, and Jaime could see that Lord Umber would not refuse the young daughter of Eddard Stark.

In the end, Jaime ordered some of his soldiers to escort the two Northerners who were most knowledgeable about arms to the forge, so they could assist Gendry and the others in the forge prepare and design weapons using the dragonglass blades.

"Aren't you going to take them with you into battle?" Arya asked, loud enough that Lord Umber heard her.

Jaime smiled. "They are my prisoners, Arya, not my soldiers."

"We'll not be fighting with the Kingslayer, Lady Arya."

"But shouldn't we all do what we can to beat the White Walkers? Even if you don't like each other? I remember Old Nan's stories about the War for the Dawn. The Starks led the Northmen into battle and they weren't all friends. There were Umbers there too, and Mormonts and Lightfoots and Manderly's. Don't you want to battle them now? Now that they have returned?"

Jaime smirked at Lord Umber following Arya's little speech, his eyebrow raised in question.

"You'd let us out and arm us, Kingslayer?"

"It's not as if you could run away. Unless you wished it to be your death, between the cold of Winter and the Others." He looked at Arya and considered her words, knowing his father would be sorely disappointed with his decision. "So long as you agree to battle the White Walkers, and not me and my men…I'll free you, once the worst of Winter is over and you can safely make your way back to the North. Back to whatever remains of Winterfell and your keeps." _The child is right. We need to work together, or it could be the death of all of us._

Edmure looked at him in astonishment. Lord Umber turned to the other Northmen, and there was some hushed discussion before the great lord turned back to Jaime, Edmure and Arya. "We'll join your red cloaks against the White Walkers – a temporary truce until they are all dead. But only if you fight beside us, Kingslayer. We'll not go marching into battle, dying on your lands, while you hole up safe and warm here at the Rock. What'll it be?"

…

Sansa sat on the large sofa in the sitting room with Roslin, Lady Catelyn and the two baby girls. Sansa's legs were curled under her and she held Julianna on her lap. She couldn't stop thinking about what they had seen from the windows, nor about the horrible screams that drew them there. Though she'd believed Jon's letter about the White Walkers, she never really thought they would be as far south as Casterly Rock. She certainly never thought she would see one. Suddenly, all of the terrifying stories Old Nan had told her as a child had come flooding back.

Jaime had been nowhere to be found, and for a moment she feared that he was outside the castle walls with the men being attacked by the White Walkers. She'd tried to go off in search of him, but Uncle Edmure – and her guards – had forced her to remain where she was. When Ser Addam had walked past the sitting room, she all but attacked him, demanding to know Jaime's whereabouts. He'd assured her that he was safe and she'd been able to relax for the first time since that first scream had pierced the silent winter night.

Sansa heard footsteps and turned her head, finally seeing Jaime. She immediately stood and all but ran to him, handing Julianna to her mother and hugging him tightly. She didn't care about the propriety of embracing him publicly, she was so relieved that he was safe and with her once again.

"We're all safe, Sansa. It's all right," he whispered. She felt him stroking her hair as Arya ran to their mother.

"Jon was right about the White Walkers! They're in Lannisport." Sansa clutched Jaime tighter, not understanding how her sister could be so excited over something so horrible. "Jaime, and Uncle Edmure, and the Northern Lords are going to lead the red cloaks to march against them."

_Jaime…is going to fight the White Walkers?_ Sansa heard Roslin gasp behind her, no doubt at the prospect of Edmure marching into battle against these creatures from beyond the Wall.

"What does she mean?" Sansa asked quietly, not certain she wanted to hear Jaime's answer.

"I hope we'll not be gone long," Jaime began. "Gendry and my men in the forge are making more dragonglass weapons, and then we'll be leaving to battle the White Walkers. I won't risk anyone harming you or Julianna."

"They can't get in here, can they?" she whispered in alarm.

"I don't believe so, but…there are all the people of Lannisport to think of also."

"You're not going." It comes out as a statement, not a question. _I can't believe Jaime even considered battling these…things._ _He promised he would never leave me._ "Jaime, you have fifty thousand men – why must you go?"

"I have to lead them, Sansa. They are my soldiers. I can't simply stay safely behind the castle walls as they march into battle. My men need to know that I am fighting, right alongside them. And your Northerners only agreed to assist us, if I fight with them."

She took his arm and led him into the adjoining library, closing the door so they could speak privately. Once the door was closed, she couldn't maintain her decorum any longer.

"You're going to end up dead, Jaime."

He rubbed her arm, trying to soothe her, taking her in his arms. "I know you're frightened. But you married a knight. And the Warden of the West. This is no different than when your father would go off to war, or off to deal with uprisings. Certainly you must remember such things happening."

She knew he was right. She had some memories of her father leaving to fight the Greyjoy rebellion and she remembered several times that her father had left home to deal with wildlings raiding nearby villages. But he'd never fought monsters before. And Sansa had only been a little girl. She couldn't have stopped her father from leaving when his king called, but she certainly intended to keep Jaime safely by her side if she could.

"What about Julianna and Tommen? Don't you want to see them grow up?"

"Sansa, sweet girl, I plan to return. I plan to raise them with you. They are part of the reason why I'm doing this. Don't you want the children to grow up in a world where they are safe, rather than one with the Others wandering the Realm?"

"What are you trying to prove? You certainly don't need to prove anything to me! And if it's your men or the Northern Lords putting you up to this…who cares what they think of you?"

She knew her voice was getting loud and a bit shrill, but she was terrified and couldn't seem to keep herself under control. She knew Jaime was right – that he should be the one to lead his men. She remembered how Joffrey had hidden away in the Red Keep during the Battle of Blackwater – leaving Tyrion to lead the Red Cloaks. And Sansa had thought Joffrey a coward for it. But this was _Jaime_. She didn't want him to risk his life, no matter how honorable it might be.

"Come here, sweet girl," he said gently, holding her and stroking her hair. "I care what you think of me. And Julianna and Tommen…I could not look them in the eyes if I didn't do what was right and honorable for the Realm." Jaime was trying to soothe her, but it only made her more angry and fearful to see that her words were not going to change his mind.

"Jaime, how can you possibly fight them? This isn't the practice you and Arya do in the hallways. You'll not be fighting a little girl. These are the White Walkers. They'll tear you limb from limb. How can you possibly expect to come back alive when you've never truly fought with that hand? Are the White Walkers truly the best way to test it out?"

She watched as Jaime looked down at his golden hand and she immediately regretted her words when she saw his expression.

"I know I'm not the best sword in the Realm as I was before…but you'd be surprised to see the progress I've made, using my left hand. It's been a while since you've watched." He spoke quietly, his shame and disappointment apparent. "I wouldn't insist on leading my men, if I were as useless as you seem to think I am. I wouldn't go unless I believed that I was still a knight – that I still have value. I don't believe that I need to stay behind with the women and children."

"Jaime, I don't –"

"I don't blame you. What is a one-handed knight worth? I'll prove my worth to you in battle, Sansa."

Before she could respond, Jaime walked out of the library, closing the door behind him as he left her alone. _I've hurt him._ Sansa felt her eyes fill with tears. She didn't mean to hurt him. She only wanted him to stay with her, where he was safe. She was terrified. She needed Jaime. _What will I do if he dies?_

…

When he exited the library, Catelyn Stark, Arya, Edmure and Roslin were all there, staring at him. It was obvious to him that they had heard Sansa's words. He wondered if they shared her belief that he was useless as a knight. He could only meet Arya's eyes as he bent down to take Julianna from her arms.

"I know you'll beat them," she whispered as she handed the baby to him.

Jaime smiled sadly and ruffled her hair, cradling Julianna against his chest. Sansa's lack of faith in him hurt. He wished she saw him as the man he was before – at least the warrior that he was before.

Jaime walked to their bedchamber, carrying Julianna and absently stroking her back as she made happy little cooing sounds. _Does Sansa think that I want to die? Does she think that I want to lose the chance to spend my life with her and raise our precious baby? _

As he walked past Tommnen's bedchamber, he stuck his head in and saw that he was already in his nightclothes, petting his kittens as they settled on the bed near him. _Sansa can't really believe I wish to die and leave her to raise Tommen. _

"Looks like you're ready for bed."

Tommen looked up and smiled. "May I hug Julianna good night?"

Jaime nodded, sitting on the bed and plopping the baby in Tommen's lap. Julianna smiled at Tommen as he wrapped his arms around her. "Good night, baby," he whispered. "I love you." Julianna made some unintelligible noises back at Tommen and rested her head against his chest as he held her.

_How did such a sweet, loving child come from me and Cersei?_ Jaime sometimes wondered if Tommen was truly his, but the physical resemblance was there, even if their personalities could not be more different. Though the boy didn't know that Julianna was truly his sister, he treated her as such, and Jaime knew that Julianna would grow up to consider Tommen to be her brother, even if the children were never told the truth. Even now, he could see that Julianna and Tommen loved one another.

"Are you really going to battle, Uncle Jaime?" Tommen asked quietly as Julianna rolled on the bed, reaching out to pet one of the kittens.

"How do you know about that?"

"After – After we saw the monsters, I came upstairs to make sure my kittens were safe. It was very scary, but Sansa said that they couldn't get inside the Rock. When I went back downstairs, I heard Arya say you were going to fight them and she asked her mother if she could go with you." Jaime laughed inwardly, as he'd already refused Arya's request to accompany him into battle. "But you and Sansa weren't there, so I came back up here. Are you really leaving?"

"Yes. In a few days…at the next dawn."

"You're going to come back, though, right?" He saw Tommen's lip quiver and moved to sit beside him. Jaime was not entirely surprised when the child climbed onto his lap.

"I promise you, Tommen, that I have every intention of coming back here. You should not be afraid."

"Are you scared?"

"I can't be afraid. I have to concentrate on the battle, and on coming back to Sansa and Julianna…and to you. You'll take care of Sansa for me while I'm gone, won't you?"

Tommen nodded seriously. "I won't let anyone hurt her."

"Perhaps you could even sleep with her at night, so she's not lonely."

His eyes lit up at the thought of spending more time with Sansa. "I promise I will. I won't let her be sad."

Tommen wrapped his arms around Jaime's neck and hugged him tightly. He caught Julianna's eyes over the boy's head and she smiled brightly, squealing in her desire that they pay attention to her.

_I promise you, Sansa. I'll come back to you and the children._

…

_I'm glad that so many of you are enjoying the introduction of the White Walkers. Thank you for the feedback and reviews. I never thought, when I started writing this story, that I would be finishing up Chapter 63, with quite a bit still in the plans, and I'm glad that so many of you are still reading and liking the story._

_Next Chapter: Catelyn talks to Sansa about her own experiences sending a husband off to war_


	64. Chapter 64

_As always, thank you for the reviews. The rest of Westeros – Jon, Dany, Tyrion – will slowly make their way into this story, so don't think they have been forgotten. The story is just not at that point yet. There is some adult content at the end of this chapter (as was requested)._

…

Chapter 64

…

Sansa stood at the library windows, looking down at Lannisport. She had not moved from that spot, after Jaime left her there, except to turn and face the windows, looking into the inky blackness. As she looked out over the town below and thought about what was down there – what she had seen – she remembered the stories Old Nan had told her as a child about the Long Night and the White Walkers. Robb and Jon had loved the scary stories the old woman told, but they always terrified Sansa. She didn't enjoy being scared as they did. She remembered how she would cling to her older brothers as she listened to Old Nan's stories, and how Robb would hold her on his lap, promising that nothing would harm her.

Thinking of those stories, she knew that the people of Lannisport – that all citizens of the Realm for that matter – were fighting the White Walkers for their lives. She'd never truly believed the terrible stories she'd been told, but she did now. She couldn't bear the thought of Jaime leaving the safety of the castle walls, and waging battle against those monsters. She couldn't bear the thought of Jaime facing the horrors that Old Nan had told them about. The thought of Jaime in a fight for his life terrified her.

_How am I supposed to allow him to risk his life? How can I not do everything in my power to stop him?_ She knew he thought that she wanted him to stay back from the battle because of his missing hand, but that had nothing to do with it. She knew what a strong warrior he was. Even now. But she doubted any man could defeat the White Walkers. Jaime wasn't talking about going into battle against mere men. He was going to fight monsters.

_Why must he risk his life? He has tens of thousands of men who can fight them. Or we can all stay here and wait for them to leave. There must be someone else who can battle them._

She startled when she felt gentle hands on her arms, until she saw that it was her mother. Sansa quickly wiped her tears, not wishing her mother to think Jaime had hurt her. _She doesn't need another reason to hate Jaime._

"Your father and I had not been married two days before he left to continue fighting Robert's Rebellion," she began, speaking quietly in Sansa's ear, her hands resting on her upper arms, holding her still. "He was with me long enough for us to marry, and…to conceive Robb. Then he left for two long years. He could easily have died at the hands of the Targaryen forces. I think I expected that he would."

Sansa could tell her mother was fighting tears. "That first time, when he left me, was not so hard, because I did not love him then. I barely knew him. Love came later, after he returned home from the war. After he gave me you and Arya. When he left to fight the Ironborn."

She had vague memories of her father leaving for the war. She remembered holding Robb's hand as he told her to be brave and promised to take care of her himself, while their father rode away. "You were such a little thing when he left to fight Greyjoy's Rebellion and Arya was no older than Julianna."

"When he left me the second time, I held Arya in my arms, and you and Robb held hands by my side…I loved your father so much. And the thought of him dying…broke my heart. I may have wanted to beg him to stay with me – to refuse to allow him to go to war. But I knew I had to let him go. It was his duty, it was who he was, and he had to go when his king called. I prayed for him. You and Robb and I prayed together for his safe return. And he did return."

Sansa began to cry, knowing that she would have to let Jaime go, though she didn't want him to. _I want him to stay here with me._

"Sansa, I had to be strong for your father. It would have done no good for him to worry for me, when he should have been concentrating on the battle in front of him. And my begging him to stay would only have caused us both grief, without changing anything. I had to let him go. I know you can do the same. That's what a lady does when her lord husband must go into battle. My love, you have been a lady since you were three; you know what your duty to your husband is. And I know, no matter how difficult it is…that you will be brave. That you will be the woman I raised you to be. For him, and for your daughter."

"I don't want him to leave. I want him here where I know he's safe." Sansa turned in her mother's arms, crying against her shoulder.

"I know you do, darling. But it can't always be as you wish it to be."

"I'm so afraid, mother. I was so afraid the whole time after father…after he died. I was all alone in the Red Keep with no one to protect me and…I didn't feel safe until Jaime was with me and we've never been apart, not since we were married." _Not since that first night I slept in his arms and knew no one could hurt me. _"What if he doesn't return? What if my life goes back to-"

"That is not going to happen. While he's gone, your guards will protect you. You are Lady of this castle and nothing will change that. The staff here will do as you command and that includes the red cloaks."

Sansa wiped her eyes again, nodding. "I can be brave for Jaime. I don't wish to make it more difficult for him. Julianna and Tommen and I need him. We need him to be safe and to return to us." She indulged herself for quite a while, allowing her mother to hold her and comfort her as she did when Sansa was a little girl. Though, she knew she would eventually have to act as a grown woman again.

_I will be the lady wife that Jaime needs me to be. I owe him so much for saving me from Joffrey…I can do this for him._

…

Sansa slowly walked back to her chamber, her guards trailing after her. She knew Jaime and his soldiers were to leave at the next dawn, which would come far too soon for her. At most, she only had a few days before he would leave her, with no certainty that he would ever return. Sansa knew that her mother was right. If Jaime was going to prevail against the White Walkers – if he was going to come back to her - he needed to know that she believed in him. He needed to know that he had her support and that her thoughts and prayers would be with him always.

When she entered their bedchamber, Sansa saw that the fire was blazing, though no one was in the chamber. She wondered where Jaime was and heard the sound of water splashing and her daughter's laughter coming from the bathing room. She walked in and saw that Jaime was in the bath with Julianna. She was sitting on his lap and laughing as she pounded her hands on the water, making it splash. The baby loved when Jaime shared the bath with her. They would play and splash and their laughter would fill the bedchamber. Sansa would always pretend to be annoyed that the marble floors were covered with water, but the truth was she took great pleasure in seeing her husband and daughter enjoy each other's company as much as they did.

She remembered how Jaime had once feared that he wasn't capable of loving their baby. Whenever she watched them together, she would remember that, and see how wrong he was. She could see the utter joy Julianna felt in her father's presence. She saw how much Jaime loved their baby and felt connected to her. It broke her heart to think that Jaime might not see her grow up. _Stop! _Sansa forced the thought from her mind. _Jaime will return safely, and he will help me to raise the little girl who loves him so much._

Jaime looked up and met her eyes. "Tommen's already asleep with those bloody kittens all around him on the bed," he said quietly, a smile on his face as he watched their daughter play.

"I know, I checked on him." Sansa moved closer, kneeling down beside the bath and reaching down to gently stroke Julianna's wet curls. She smiled at Sansa, squealing loudly and splashing the water again. Sansa reached over and smoothed her hand over Jaime's wet hair, her heart clenching at the hurt she saw in his eyes. "She's so happy."

The babe slammed her hands into the water again, making another splash that sprayed Sansa. The sounds of the babe's laughter filled the room.

"I'm sorry," she said quietly, watching as the babe turned to Jaime, grinning and clutching his arm.

"You have nothing to be sorry for. I know you didn't mean to…I know." he leaned back against the tub, cuddling Julianna's slippery little body against him. Sansa pulled up her sleeves and reached into the water, picking up a cloth and gently washing the babe as Jaime held her. When she'd finished, Sansa leaned over and kissed Jaime, hoping he could forgive her. She felt his mouth moving against hers as Julianna began splashing the water again and by the time Sansa pulled away the front of her gown was soaked.

Jaime's eyes roamed over her wet gown, no doubt expecting another lecture from Sansa about his teaching their daughter to be a wildling. "I suppose she's had enough," he said, the amusement clear in his voice.

Sansa shook her head and stood up, unfolding a fluffy towel and draping it over her arms, so Jaime could place the wet baby there. She wrapped the towel around Julianna and held her tightly, carrying her into their bedchamber and plopping her down on the furs in front of the fire to dry off. Sansa removed her wet gown and joined Julianna on the furs, clad only in her shift, rubbing the towel over the baby's little body, drying her off and brushing her hair back. She smiled up at Sansa as the fire crackled and warmed them both.

Sansa picked her up and hugged her, kissing her little cheek. _I love her so much. _She played with her little red curls and gazed into the glittering green eyes the babe had inherited from Jaime. _He has to be here to see her grow up. He has to._ She put a diaper on her and dressed her in her sleeping clothes before standing with the babe in her arms and settling into one of the chairs before the fire. Sansa gently stroked her little body, trying to relax her for bed, and succeeded, judging by her little yawns.

Jaime walked into their chamber and Julianna perked up, cooing and gurgling as she tried to get his attention. Sansa silently handed her over to Jaime, knowing that while she preferred to cuddle with Sansa in the mornings, Julianna would rather fall asleep in Jaime's arms. He settled in the other chair, letting their baby lie against his bare chest, her little head on his shoulder as he quietly murmured in her ear. Sansa couldn't hear him, he was speaking so gently to her. She simply curled her feet under her and watched the two people she loved most in the world.

Sansa knew the baby was asleep when Jaime stopped murmuring to her and met Sansa's blue eyes. "I am sorry, Jaime," she whispered, forcing herself not to cry.

Jaime carefully stood and placed the babe in her bassinette. "I know you're scared. I wish I didn't have to leave you but...I have to go. For you. For Julianna and Tommen."

She nodded, looking down at her hands folded in her lap. She knew he was right, but it pained her all the same. She was aware of Jaime kneeling down before her, his hand covering her own. She looked up and met his eyes. "I love you so much, Jaime. I'm so afraid of something happening to you."

Jaime squeezed her hand and pulled her to her feet, leading her to their bed. He sat on the bed, leaning against the headboard and gently pulled Sansa until she settled on his lap, her head resting on his shoulder. She wrapped her arms around his neck, one hand tracing over his neck and chest. _He's so handsome and so strong._ She was fascinated by the sight of her pale fingers moving over his golden skin.

"I know you're afraid, Sansa. I know that. And I wish that I didn't have to leave you. I wish that I could take away your fear."

"I know," she whispered.

"Sansa, I…I need you to believe in me." It broke her heart to hear him voice aloud his belief that she didn't support him. She felt like she had failed him. He asked so little of her in return for all that he had done for her and Sansa was ashamed of herself for making him feel as if she doubted his abilities as a knight. "I know it was well before I met you, but…Sansa, I've been in battle many times. You've never been one for war stories, not like Arya, but I promise you my sweet, I'm rather good at it. Killing is one of the few things I'm truly good at…Perhaps the only thing."

"That's not true," she murmured, moving closer and turning towards him, gently kissing him. "There are so many things you are good at."

Jaime smiled sadly, his hand absently stroking her back. "I know I've lost a hand since…my glory days," he said with a bitter laugh. "I understand your doubts. You saw me at my worst over the loss of my hand. You met me when I was certain that I was useless. But…you were right when you told me that I could learn to be just as good a swordsman with my left hand. I promise you, Sansa. If I didn't believe myself capable, I wouldn't go." He clutched her tighter, resting his head against hers. "Please…please believe in me."

Sansa really looked at her husband, and saw that his eyes were searching hers. She saw how much he needed her approval and needed to know that she had faith in him. She had not realized that his self-worth was so linked to her opinion of him. _Jaime is so confident. Arrogant even, at times. _She supposed that confidence was what made him a good warrior. His confidence and his fearlessness. _It will be easier for him to prevail against the White Walkers, if he's confident in his abilities. If he knows that I believe in him._

"Jaime, I know you're capable." She rested her hand on his cheek and kissed him. "I've seen you fight with your left hand and I know that even now, you're a better fighter than most men. I know that. I never doubted it. I'm just so afraid. I wish it didn't have to be you."

"I know you're afraid, sweet girl. Everyone thinks I have no honor. But a man with no honor – a coward – would hide away in his castle, and do nothing to protect the innocent. I don't want to be that man. I promise I will come back to you. I've never had such a good reason – so many good reasons – to return from battle, until you and our girl."

She nodded, as tears fell from her eyes. She felt Jaime wipe away her tears, kissing her forehead. "Please don't cry. You'll be safe here, with Julianna and Tommen. A thousand men will stay here to protect you and the children."

"I know we'll be safe, Jaime. I worry about you."

He sighed and nuzzled against her neck. "You know I have to go. I wouldn't be the man that you deserve if – well, I suppose I'll never be the man that you deserve, but I would like to try to be worthy of you, Sansa. I'd like to try to be the man I wanted to be when I was a boy. I'd like to try to be the honorable knight you always wished to marry."

"You already are." She hated herself for crying. "I'll think of you every moment you are gone…waiting for you to return to me." He held her tightly, rocking her and kissing the top of her head. "I'm sorry I'm so weak," she whispered.

"You're not weak, Sansa. You may not realize it, but you are strong and brave," he said, kissing her temple. "You've survived things that would break many men. You'll survive this, my sweet. I don't pray anymore, so you'll do it for me. And I'll return to you."

"Do you promise?" she asked, tilting her head up to look at him.

"I promise. I don't wish to be away from you for a moment longer than I must. We'll be together again as soon as I can manage. I love you more than anything, Sansa. And I intend to be with you as long as you'll have me."

She thought about how much she loved Jaime and Sansa began softly kissing his neck and moving her hands to his chest. She felt him tangle his hand in her hair and pull her face toward him, kissing her deeply. His hand was creeping up her thigh, moving the hem of her shift up inch by inch. She grasped his wrist, raising an eyebrow.

"You're sending your knight into battle, my lady," he said, kissing and nipping at her neck. "Aren't you supposed to show me the depth of your affections? Give me a memory to see me through the battle? I suspect you would know better than I about what's to be expected."

Sansa couldn't help smiling as Jaime appealed to the part of her that had always loved the songs of knights and ladies and always dreamed of loving a knight herself. She had always thought it would be terribly romantic to send her knight into battle, but now that she was faced with the reality of it – that she could be sending him off to die – Sansa didn't find it very romantic. Though she did want to enjoy every moment they had together before he left. _Perhaps we'll even make another baby._

Jaime continued kissing her neck, pulling down one of the straps of her sheath and moving his mouth to her shoulder. "It'll be cold out there…I'll think of tonight when I need memory to warm me."

Sansa pressed against his chest until he lay on his back. "I think I can do that." She leaned over him and began kissing along his jaw. "My brave, handsome knight," she whispered, kissing his neck and moving to his chest. He smelled so fresh and clean as she kissed his newly washed skin. Jaime sighed in pleasure when she kissed one of his nipples, softly lapping at it with her tongue as her fingers played with the other.

His hand tangled in her long hair as she continued kissing his body, dipping her tongue in his belly button. Sansa glanced up at him and saw that he was watching her closely. Her eyes roamed over his torso, taking in the muscles visible beneath his golden skin. _He's so strong. So powerful. He'll prevail in this battle. He has to. _Sansa reached for the towel around his waist and pulled it open, exposing all of her husband's body to her gaze. His manhood was already growing hard with arousal and she smiled to herself at his gasp when her hand closed around him.

She began to slowly stroke him and glanced back again to see the desire in his gaze. She began kissing and licking below his naval, inching closer and closer to where she knew he wanted to feel her mouth the most. She finally licked the tip of him, tasting the saltiness.

"Gods, Sansa," he groaned, his hand sliding beneath her shift and shoving it up before he pulled at her smallclothes, moving them down past her thighs. She was finding it hard to concentrate when he began stroking between her thighs. Sansa took a deep breath to control her arousal a bit before she took him in her mouth. She knew she'd succeeded in undoing him when his hand stopped moving between her thighs, and instead, he simply gripped her bottom and began moving his hips, slightly thrusting up into her mouth.

"Sansa…Sansa…" she felt him squeezing her bottom and knew he wanted her to stop before he peaked. She sat up and turned to face him, pulling off her smallclothes and straddling him. She leaned forward and kissed him, now thoroughly aroused herself. She slowly pressed her tongue into his mouth, and Jaime growled as he rolled his tongue back against hers.

"Are you certain you wished for me to stop?" she whispered between their deep, passionate kisses, as she moved her mouth to his throat.

Jaime didn't really answer her. He merely growled again against her neck as he sat up, keeping her on his lap. She glanced between them and saw that he was as hard as he had ever been. Before she could touch him, Sansa felt him reach for the hem of her shift and begin pulling it upwards. She reached to help him, pulling it over her head until she was as naked as he was. Her body was so warm and it felt so good as his hand began to stroke over her skin. His mouth almost immediately went to her breasts, closing over one of her nipples. She arched her back, pushing her breasts toward him as he licked and suckled.

"Gods, Jaime…I love you."

She felt his hand on her waist, and the golden hand digging into her bottom as he turned her onto her back and climbed over her, caging her beneath him. His eyes moved up and down her body and Sansa knew she was flushed with arousal. She rested her hands on his shoulders and his green eyes met hers. She hoped that he knew how much she cared for him and how much she did believe in him. Sansa pulled herself up, and kissed him, wrapping her legs around his waist, unable to wait any longer to feel him inside her.

He knew what she wanted and swiftly pushed into her. Sansa gasped and arched her back, pushing her breasts against his chest as he continued thrusting into her. There was a desperation to their lovemaking that had never before existed between them. They both knew it would be some time before they were together again in that way. She gripped his bottom, pulling him closer to her and deeper inside her. Sansa felt him smirk against her neck as his hips began snapping against her harder and faster, giving her what she wanted.

"Easy, Sansa," he said with a chuckle as she moved against him just as frantically. "We have all night…and a few more days until the next dawn." He sat up, holding her on his lap and letting her control their pace, no doubt enjoying the sight of her breasts bouncing in time with her movements, judging by the way his eyes were drawn there. Jaime lowered his mouth to her nipples, sucking one into his mouth and lightly raking his teeth over it. The slight pain felt good and Sansa rolled her head back and moaned, continuing to wantonly ride his manhood. "There's plenty of time to show me how much you'll miss me," he murmured against her skin as he licked at the sweat beading between her breasts.

She tipped his chin up with her finger, resting her forehead against his. "I'll miss you every moment you are gone." She covered his mouth with her own, kissing him deeply and passionately, her tongue dueling with his as she continued rocking back and forth on his lap.

She felt as if she couldn't possibly be close enough to him and felt the bed against her back again. Jaime grabbed one of her legs and moved it over his shoulder, her other thigh wrapped tight around his waist as he moved above her. Sansa knew that Jaime's control was slipping away from him as his thrusts became more erratic and he began muttering a string of filthy words, as he sometimes did when he felt he was losing all restraint. She always pretended to be shocked, but truly, it excited her a bit to see how she was able to unmake him and take complete control of his body. Sansa felt herself beginning to peak, and wrapped her leg tighter around his waist, burying her face against his neck as she moaned that she loved him.

"Sansa…Sansa." He began panting her name and she echoed his own name back, holding him tight until he drew back, arching over her and almost roaring with ecstasy as he came, his seed filling her. They remained joined, Jaime's eyes clouded with lust, as she stroked back his hair, damp with sweat. She felt a pleasant chill as her body began to cool. He was still panting as she gently stroked his face, pulling him down for another kiss. He withdrew from her then, though he continued kissing her until he finally rolled onto his back, a satisfied smile on his face.

"You seem to have forgotten yourself, my lady," he began, mischief in his voice. "We're lucky you didn't wake the babe with your carrying on." She felt her face heat, knowing he was right that she had not thought of anything but making love to her husband, and heard him chuckle softly as he turned onto his side to face her. "Don't think I'm complaining…I almost think that I should go off to battle more often if this is the farewell I get."

He softly trailed his fingers over her neck and breasts and down to her hip. Jaime kissed her and Sansa wrapped her arms around his neck as he tried to move away, holding him against her. "I love you, Jaime," she whispered. "And if anyone can conquer the White Walkers…it is you."

He felt him hold her, kissing her cheek. "I love you, too, sweet girl." He reached for the furs, pulling them over the lower half of their bodies. Sansa closed her eyes, her head on Jaime's chest. _As she fell asleep, she silently prayed to the Warrior to look over Jaime and bring him safely back to her._

…

_Next Chapter: Jaime and his men leave Casterly Rock_


	65. Chapter 65

Chapter 65

…

"We need 5000 food packs, one for each man to carry, and then enough supplies to fill the wagon," Sansa said, sending kitchen maids scurrying. "We only have until the dawn, and this must be finished."

Once Sansa accepted that Jaime was going to lead his men into battle, she had thrown herself into organizing the preparations - giving the staff orders to ensure that Jaime and each of his men had sufficient supplies of dried meats, bread and fruits to eat; that their flagons were filled with water and wine; and that all had adequate furs to withstand the cold, as well as flint to make fires. Her mother and Roslin were helping as well, though Sansa could see that Roslin was just as apprehensive as she was about Edmure leaving to battle the White Walkers. There was a sadness in her eyes that Sansa had not seen since she and Edmure had reunited.

Sansa had been working almost non-stop to prepare everything Jaime and his soldiers needed before they set off for battle, frequently with Julianna on her hip. The only time she stopped working on the preparations was at night, when she would spend every moment with Jaime. There wasn't a whole lot that she could do to ensure that Jaime was safe, but she could make certain that he had what he needed to keep himself alive and strong for his battle. She could ensure that Jaime would not freeze or starve.

She had spoken with Hot Pie in the kitchens the day earlier, wanting him to bake extra bread, so that the men could take that with them as well. He had misunderstood her at first, and utter terror overtook his face, thinking Sansa intended for him to accompany the men into battle as their cook. Once she assured him he would remain at Casterly Rock, the poor boy had dropped to his knees and sobbed into her skirts in gratitude.

She understood his fear. It's how she felt about Jaime going after the White Walkers. Sansa tried to reassure herself that Jaime was strong and a good fighter, and that he would prevail. He had tried to comfort her as well, but she still felt terrible fear whenever she thought about her husband leaving her and pursuing the Others. She knew there was a real possibility of his being badly hurt or killed – though she tried not to think about it.

"This is quite impressive, what you've put together here," her Uncle Edmure said as he strolled into the dining room and interrupted her thoughts.

Sansa glanced up from what she was doing for a moment and smiled. "It's the least I can do for all of you. I'm not risking my life."

"Nor should you. Your husband would not wish for you to be in danger."

"And I believe Roslin would not wish for _you_ to be in danger. She'd prefer it if you stayed behind at the Rock."

Edmure nodded. "She would prefer that. Probably as much as you would like Jaime to remain behind. You understand, Sansa, that we must do this in order to protect both of you, as well as our daughters. Though, I expect your husband wishes to save the Realm, as well. As I recall, he always had a desire to be a famous warrior."

Sansa smiled. "And you don't?"

Edmure sighed, leaning against the chair in front of him as Sansa continued working. "I was never…ambitious. Never wished to be knighted. Never dreamed of rescuing a fair maiden. I always knew I would one day be Lord of Riverrun, so there was no reason to excel at life. No reason to try to make my own way. That's where your husband and I differ. Perhaps now that I have a wife and a child…it's time I considered someone other than myself."

"Jaime tells me that the Northern lords are going into battle as well," she began hesitantly.

"Yes."

Sansa looked up at Edmure, focusing all of her attention on her uncle. "They won't – They won't hurt him will they? I mean…they won't be shackled and they'll be given weapons and I know how they feel about Jaime. I know they blame him for Robb and being taken prisoner…I've heard what they say to him."

"They won't hurt your husband."

"How do you know?"

"These are honorable men, Sansa. They hate Jaime, that's true, but they made an agreement – a promise. They love the Realm more than they hate him. They know that working with Jaime against the White Walkers is the best way to defeat them. They don't wish for everyone to die. You know the legend, Sansa. The First Men and the Children of the Forest put aside their differences to battle side by side to defeat the White Walkers when they first appeared all those years ago. Jaime and the Northerners are putting the war aside for now."

Sansa nodded, though she wasn't completely reassured. "You won't let anything happen to him, will you?" she asked, wiping away her tears. "Please, Uncle. I know that you're angry with him too, but…please don't let anyone hurt him. I couldn't bear to lose him."

Edmure walked over and put his arm around her. "Don't cry, Sansa…you look so like Cat did when she was your age. When…when Brandon was killed."

Her mother had never spoken to her about her first love. Brandon Stark. The brother of the man she would marry in the end. Sansa always wondered how her mother felt about marrying the brother of her betrothed, but she'd never had the courage to ask. "Did she love him very much?"

Edmure nodded. "I saw the pain his death caused her, Sansa. I'd never allow that to happen to you, if it could be prevented. You've suffered enough. You have my word, Sansa. If it's within my power, your husband will return to you."

"Thank you," she whispered.

…

The forge was busier than Jaime had ever seen it in all his seven and thirty years. For the past two days, there had been no less than twenty men working around the clock, in twelve hour shifts.

Jaime looked through the various weapons that had been made in the past two days. With the input of the Northern lords, much more than mere daggers and arrowheads had been made from the dragonglass. More daggers and arrow heads had been made, as well as quarrels for crossbows; lances with dragonglass tips, designed to spear any of the White Walkers from horseback; several fine swords with dragonglass blades sandwiched between the steel; and a few more exotic weapons such as catapults and flame throwers, designed to utilize fire when battling the wights.

From the looks of it, Jaime thought his best bet, with only one hand, would be to use the sword or the dagger. Jaime again cursed his missing hand. He had hoped to be able to battle the White Walkers from a distance, but it seemed having one hand would not allow that. Though, he supposed, he'd never been one to battle from afar.

"Gendry, what's that you have there?" The boy was holding what appeared to be a war hammer, though the hammerhead itself was spiked with dragonglass. _Fitting that Robert Baratheon's bastard would make himself a war hammer. I wonder if the boy knows anything of the identity of his sire._

"Lord Manderly suggested it. He said that King Robert had beaten the Targaryens with a war hammer, so it should succeed against the White Walkers. Lord Lannister," he began hesitantly. "Might I go with you into battle?"

Jaime met the boy's clear blue eyes, and saw only an earnest desire to help the Realm. He didn't see the bloodlust of a warrior, and as far as he knew, the boy had no experience killing. "Why would you want to do that? Why would you want to risk death?"

"All of you are fighting for the lives of the Realm. I don't wish to wait here, not knowing what's going on. Not helping, as all men who are able should. I've only ever wanted to be a smith but…everyone will die if you don't win. I feel…it's my duty to join the battle."

Jaime considered the boy, wondering if it would be best to leave him behind with Sansa and Arya, as he had planned to. He'd come to trust the boy, at least so far as the safety of his wife was concerned. "Have you ever fought before? In a fight to the death?"

The boy shook his head. "No, Lord Lannister, but I've been watching your men practice and…they've let me practice with them sometimes. I'm not very skilled with a blade but…I believe that I could be of use to you. If for nothing more than another pair of eyes, to spot the White Walkers before they are upon you."

_That's not a bad thought. We will need as much notice as possible to prepare – both mentally and physically – to do battle with the White Walkers. We could use several look-outs. _"You'll ride with me, Gendry. I'm at a bit of a disadvantage," he said, looking at his golden hand self-consciously. He'd been hurt when Sansa had implied that his missing hand was a reason to stay out of the battle, but he couldn't deny that it would make it more difficult for him. "I could use your help."

Gendry merely nodded, though Jaime had learned that the boy was not one to display emotion. He'd praised him previously for all of his work making the dragonglass weaponry, and the boy had seemed embarrassed. Jaime had decided he was more the type to do his work without expecting recognition for it. "Lady Arya still hopes to accompany you and serve as your squire. She talks of nothing else."

Jaime chuckled. "She is quite determined. She has no doubt that she'll grow up to be a knight. Perhaps she will…"

Gendry smiled and put down the war hammer. "They are very different…she and Lady Lannister. I'd never have thought that Lady Arya was raised as she was…in a castle. Nor that she had a sister such as your lady wife."

"I'd not have thought Sansa had a sister quite like Arya. Siblings are sometimes rather different." Jaime couldn't help thinking about Tyrion and how different they were. He missed his brother. His little brother had been his friend and companion for so long and it hurt Jaime to know that he hated him now. He felt as if he had lost a piece of his identity. It seemed as if those he'd relied on his whole life were all gone: his father, Cersei, Tyrion. It was no wonder that Sansa had become his whole world.

"You should keep the war hammer – I think that might be a good weapon for you to use." _Especially if Robert Baratheon is your father. _Jaime wondered if he should tell Gendry his suspicions as to the identity of his father. _Perhaps after we return from the battle._

…

The dawn came far too soon. He suspected the day for his departure had arrived when he awoke alone in bed and saw Sansa at the window, almost completely hidden by the curtains.

"Come back to bed, sweet girl."

They had made the most of the little time they had together before he left. The both of them spent most of their waking hours preparing for the departure of Jaime and his soldiers. Though once they retired to their rooms, Jaime would hold Julianna until she fell asleep and then make love to Sansa, promising to return to her. She would lie in his arms afterward, holding tight to his body until they were forced to awaken and leave their bed. He knew if she out of their bed so early it was for good reason. There were tears glistening in her eyes when she returned to their bed and he knew.

"The sun rises?"

Sansa nodded, resting her head against his chest. "You'll leave today."

Jaime stroked her back and kissed the top of her head. He was proud of how brave she had been the past few days. _She's so young, despite being a wife and mother. And my darling girl has lost so much. I can't allow her to suffer another loss. I must return to her. _

She had organized so much of the preparations for him and his men all on her own. Sansa had more than proven herself worthy of being Lady of the Rock. Many of his soldiers had remarked to him about their admiration for Lady Lannister. Now, as the time for his departure drew near, he could hear in Sansa's voice that she was trying to be strong for him. "Don't be scared, Sansa. The sooner we leave, the sooner that I can return to you."

She reached up and touched his cheek, kissing him gently. He was surprised when she almost immediately pulled away from him and got back out of their bed, but when she approached the bassinette, he understood. _She wants to be certain I have time with the babe. _ She returned with their little girl cradled in her arms and crawled back into bed, snuggling against him and putting Julianna on his chest.

"You should hold her as much as you can, before it's time for you to leave," Sansa whispered, kissing his cheek and sharing the space against his chest with their babe. Julianna was just waking, and fighting it from the way she rubbed her face against Jaime's chest. He held her with his good hand and wrapped the other around Sansa. There was a part of him that never wanted to leave that bed. A part of him that wished for nothing more than to hold his girls in his arms and cuddle and kiss them and bask in their affection.

_You're doing this for them. You're doing this for Sansa and so the Realm is safe. So Julianna can grow up._ It was the thought of the terror the White Walkers would cause the Realm, should they wander unchecked for the duration of Winter that spurred him on in his determination to lead his men into the war. If they weren't stopped, most of Westeros would be dead before the Spring.

Jaime and Sansa broke their fast in their chambers, with little Tommen joining them, before preparing for the departure of thousands of Lannister soldiers. Sansa helped Jaime put on his armor, and he couldn't keep the smirk off his face as her eyes glittered in excitement, despite herself, when she'd finished. Though she tried to hide it – tried to pretend that she no longer believed in songs or the romance of knights and ladies – he knew that she did. Jaime knew that she still wanted to believe.

He had already been in King's Landing when his father had departed Casterly Rock to march on the capitol for the Sack, but Jaime imagined that his father's farewell was more spectacular. Lord Tywin did have a taste for the grand, when it would bolster the Lannister name. They didn't have time for spectacle now. This was a somber occasion.

All of Casterly Rock was lined up in the Great Hall to see Jaime and his men off – be they the many soldiers who would remain to guard Sansa and the keep; the kitchen staff; or the chambermaids. Many of his soldiers were married to women on the staff. Or merely lovers to women on the staff, so Sansa and Lady Roslin were not the only women with tears glistening in their eyes as they sent their loves off to battle.

"It's time," Jaime said, letting everyone know to say their final farewells. Jaime knelt down and embraced Tommen, who hugged him tightly.

"I love you, Uncle Jaime."

"Be a good boy, all right?"

Tommen nodded against his shoulder, clutching him tighter and beginning to cry.

"Don't cry. I need you to be brave. You'll look after Sansa and Julianna for me, like we talked about, won't you?" The boy nodded again, wiping his eyes. _I may never see him again_, Jaime thought as his son clung to him. "I love you too, Tommen," he whispered, kissing the top of his head. The boy finally released him, sniffling and wiping his eyes. Jaime stood and Tommen leaned against Sansa, while Jaime took Julianna from her arms. He had already held her most of the morning and spoken to the babe quietly, hoping that she somehow understood his words of love and his wishes for her future.

After briefly holding her against his chest and kissing her cheek, he handed Julianna back to Sansa, who passed her to Pia, also giving Tommen's hand to the girl. He knew Sansa intended to walk with Jaime and his men down the long path to the Lion's Mouth.

Jaime saw that Arya was standing beside her sister, waiting for her chance to say farewell. "Are you certain I can't go with you?" she asked. "I'm not afraid." He saw that she was wearing her heaviest cloak and had her sword at her waist. _Just in case I change my mind about needing her to squire, no doubt._

"Perhaps next time," he said. "I need you to stay here and help protect your sister." The girl pulled him into a hug, and Jaime caught Lady Stark's eye over the child's shoulder. He knew she must hate that both his daughters had such affection for him. He certainly never imagined caring for Ned Stark's daughters as he did. He let her go, watching as she walked over to say goodbye to Gendry.

"You'll help Jaime, since I can't go with him?"

Gendry smiled and ruffled her hair. "Aye, I'll help him."

"Be careful," she murmured quietly.

"Would you miss me if I never returned?"

She nodded, not meeting his eyes, and Jaime smiled to himself. He wondered if young Gendry realized that the little girl had a crush on him. It was quite obvious to both Jaime and Sansa. He glanced over at Lady Stark and saw that it was clear to her as well.

He knew that Lady Stark had spoken to Sansa about his leaving for battle, and that whatever she had said to her had comforted his wife. Lady Stark's words had given her the strength to be brave. Jaime wanted to thank her for helping Sansa, but he knew the woman would just as soon spit in his face as accept his thanks. _I should try. For Sansa's sake._

"Lady Stark," he began quietly. He almost changed course, seeing the anger in her gaze, but he forced himself to continue. "Thank you for…supporting Sansa. This has not been easy for her. I know you have no use for me but…should I not return, I'd ask you to make sure that Sansa is able to go on. She's very young and…she has her whole life ahead of her, with or without me."

Her expression did not soften, but she looked at him. "She loves you far more than you deserve."

"I'm well aware of that fact. Perhaps…perhaps one day I will be worthy of her. Perhaps one day I'll be able to make up for the past."

He walked away from Catelyn before either of them said something they would regret, and he took Sansa's hand, walking with her out of the Great Hall, and down the long walkway leading to the Lion's Mouth. He saw that Lady Stark would not be joining them at the gate, having already embraced her brother Edmure and taken the baby from Roslin's arms. As they began to leave, he saw that Tommen moved forward as if to follow, but Lady Stark took his hand and spoke some words Jaime could not hear. Whatever she said had the desired effect and Tommen remained there, beside Arya.

They reached the Lion's Mouth, and he felt Sansa's hand tighten on his, as if she would not let him go. "This is goodbye, Sansa. Until I return."

She nodded, lifting herself up on her tiptoes and wrapping her arms around his neck. "Please be safe, Jaime. Please be safe and come back to me as soon as you are able."

"I promise you."

Sansa reached into the pocket of her cape and withdrew a small white handkerchief. He recognized it. It was the first one she had made for herself with a lion on it. Jaime had been surprised when she had made it all those months ago, never believing that she would identify with the sigil of his house. And she had said that as long as it was his house, it would be hers as well.

She loosened his armor a bit and slipped her hand beneath, tucking it inside the layers of leather covering his heart. "I added a wolf…to remind you of me and…I stitched…Julianna and Tommen's names…so you'll know they are thinking of you…" She began to cry then, tears flowing freely down her cheeks as she blindly fixed his armor back as it had been and pulled his heavy cloak closed.

He wiped the tears from her cheeks. "Are you giving me your favor, my lady?"

She nodded, sniffling. "I always…I always imagined how this would be…sending my knight into battle. I would give him my favor and he would kiss my hand and I would watch him ride away. It seemed so romantic…I suppose perhaps it is as long as you return."

He smiled and took her in his arms, kissing the top of her head. "I love you, sweet girl. I love you so much."

He wasn't certain what he was supposed to say to her. He had never had a tearful farewell like this before. He had never had a woman to see him off into battle before. He'd never admit it, but a part of him had always been a bit jealous as he watched the men around him with women in their arms, tucking favors into their pockets. But Jaime had always been alone. He had always simply waited impatiently for the farewells to end, so the fighting could begin.

"Sansa?" he said, rubbing her shoulder. "I – I've never loved anyone as I love you. I mean that."

"I love you, too, Jaime." She looked up at him with her watery blue eyes and pulled him down for a kiss. "Come back to me," she whispered against his mouth.

"I will," he said, holding her tighter. "Surely you can do better than that kiss…your sending me to fight for the life of the Realm, Sansa." He deliberately did not say this could be their last kiss, but she seemed to know that's what he meant.

She looked around, seeing how many people were there, though none of them were aware of anything outside of their own farewells. She evidently decided this was no time for propriety, because Sansa wrapped her arms around his neck again, and covered his lips with her own, kissing him long and deep. Jaime savored every moment that he held her in his arms. Every moment that her mouth was on his. Once she broke their passionate kiss, Jaime held her tightly and lifted her off her feet, burying his face against her neck and breathing in her sweet smell.

"We have to go," he whispered and she nodded as he placed her back on the ground. He took her hand and kissed it, a soft smile on his face. Jaime found it difficult to release her hand and stared at her for a long moment, memorizing her beautiful face, before Jaime forced himself to release her and call for his men to leave.

Sansa took Lady Roslin's arm, and the ladies stepped to the side, out of the way of the horses. The both of them had tears in their eyes, and Jaime watched his wife as the gates were raised. Jaime nodded to his men and they began walking their horses forward. Jaime rode with Edmure, Gendry and Ser Addam. The Northerners were spread out amongst his soldiers, just in case they decided to band together and turn on the Lannisters, though he didn't really believe they would.

He felt Sansa's eyes on him as he rode away and knew she would not leave the Lion's Mouth until she could no longer see him. He forced himself to push his sweet little wife from his mind and focus on the task at hand. So he could come back to her.

…

_I hope that lived up to your expectations for Jaime & Sansa's farewell. _

_Next chapter: Jaime and his men battle the White Walkers_


	66. Chapter 66

Chapter 66

…

Watching the massive metal gate lower, the giant golden "teeth" blocking off the Lion's Mouth, and separating her from Jaime, was the most difficult thing Sansa had ever done. She felt a fear that reminded her of when her father had been taken prisoner. A feeling of helplessness and a sense that a change had come that she didn't want. And Sansa was overwhelmed with the desire to run after Jaime, no matter how un-ladylike it would have been. She choked back a sob, feeling her eyes tear, and Roslin put her arm around her, giving in to her own tears at Edmure's departure.

Sansa wiped her eyes, pulling herself together for the benefit of the thousands of Jaime's men who remained. _You are Jaime Lannister's lady wife. You are the Lady of Casterly Rock. _She reminded herself that these men were hers to command until Jaime returned. She could not appear weak in front of them. It would bring shame on her lord husband. And on her house. _I have to be the wife that Jaime deserves_. She wanted him to be proud of her. _The Lady of the Rock must be brave and strong._

Sansa took a deep breath and resolutely linked her arm through Roslin's. "It's going to be all right. They'll return to us," she whispered, squeezing her friend's hand. She ordered Jaime's men, with the exception of those who were to remain at the Lion's Mouth and those who served as her personal guards, to return to their barracks. For a moment, she feared they would not obey her, but they did as she asked.

Sansa led Roslin back to the Great Hall, where she reclaimed her baby from Pia's arms. She hugged Julianna, kissing her head, and watched as her mother returned little Bethany to Roslin.

Sansa closed her eyes and breathed in the scent of the baby, holding her close and telling herself to be strong for her. She felt her mother's arms around her shoulder. "Are you all right, my love?"

Sansa nodded. "Where is Tommen?" she asked quietly.

"He went up to his chamber," her mother said gently. Sansa knew the little boy was upset over Jaime leaving. "He'll be all right."

"I'm going to my chamber as well."

"Are you certain you don't wish to stay here, Sansa? It might do you good to have a bit of a distraction."

"I'll be all right, mother. I want to be alone for a while." She hugged her before hurrying upstairs, carrying Julianna with her. She entered her chamber and sat in the large window seat, watching Jaime and his men continue their march into Lannisport. Sansa stared out the window, holding Julianna and watching them ride off for as long as possible, until she could no longer see them. Sansa closed her eyes, praying to the Warrior and the Father to protect Jaime and to help all of the men in the battle, so that they could prevail against the White Walkers and return home safely.

Julianna was making noises to get her attention, and Sansa smiled down at her baby girl, holding her so she could stand up on Sansa's lap, and watched her bounce up and down, testing the strength of her legs. "Your father will return to us. I know it. He loves you so much, Julianna. He loves his little lioness." The babe smiled when Sansa said her name and she wrapped her arms around her daughter, who made her little sounds – not quite words – and rested her head on Sansa's shoulder. _At least I'll have a part of Jaime with me, until he returns. Whenever I want to see his eyes, I need only look at our daughter. _She spent that entire first day in their chamber, seated by the window, thinking about Jaime as she held their baby in her arms.

Later in the afternoon, she heard Tommen and Arya outside the chamber doors, practicing with wooden swords in the hallway. Sansa knew that Jaime had taken Arya aside before he left and asked her to be kind to Tommen while he was gone and to play with him. He had told Arya how much the little boy liked her and wished to be friends; that he missed having Myrcella to play with. Arya had grudgingly agreed, though she made Jaime promise to teach her to joust once the spring came.

Sansa wondered where Jaime was and if he was all right. Jaime had told her that they'd likely not encounter the White Walkers until the darkness fell, and Sansa found herself praying that it would never come. The darkness did come, and far sooner than Sansa wished it. She knew it would be dark for many days, and that Jaime would be in danger for every moment of it.

Sansa didn't have much of an appetite, and remained in her chamber when Pia came to tell her that dinner was ready downstairs. Despite her insistence that she wasn't hungry, Pia had returned with a tray of food for she and the children to share. Sansa thanked her, knowing the girl was completely loyal to Jaime and cared about what happened to his wife and daughter. She called Tommen and Arya in to eat in her chamber, placing the tray on the floor before the fire. Sansa fed Julianna little bits of food, while Tommen and Arya piled the roasted meat and potatoes on their plates.

She watched Tommen carefully, knowing it was her duty to look after Jaime's son. The little golden-haired boy seemed in better spirits, than when he'd tearfully said goodbye to Jaime. It had broken her heart to watch him cry as he fearfully clung to Jaime. Hearing Jaime tell little Tommen that he loved him had brought a tear to Sansa's eyes. _He has to return, now that he has been given the chance to have a relationship with his young son. Finally._

After supper, Sansa wanted nothing more than to crawl into bed. She was exhausted from the emotion of the day, and a small part of her hoped that she would wake to Jaime's return. "Tommen, go ask Pia to help you get ready for bed, and I'll come tuck you in."

"Uncle Jaime said I should sleep with you while he's gone. So you're not lonely."

Sansa smiled, easily imagining Jaime asking Tommen to do such a thing. She'd not slept alone since she and Jaime were married. They had never been separated, and it would be a comfort to have Jaime's children sleeping near her. "All right…go change into your nightclothes and then come back."

Tommen smiled and ran out of the room.

"Arya, will you watch her while I undress?" Sansa asked, gesturing to Julianna who was rolling on the fur clapping her hands together.

"Doesn't your _handmaiden_ have to help you? Isn't that what a lady would do?"

Sansa smirked at her sister. "This is an extraordinary time. And it's not as if I'm getting ready for a ball at court," she muttered. "Will you watch her?"

Her sister nodded, moving the baby onto her lap. "Why is he such a baby?"

"Tommen?"

Arya nodded. "He's nine. He should sleep in his own bed, not with you like Julianna does."

Sansa glared at her sister before removing her gown and shift, watching Arya holding the babe up as she bounced on her knees. "He's still a little boy and…I don't believe his mother ever let him be a baby. I don't think she ever really held him or cuddled him so he likes that kind of attention."

"Cersei was a horrible person wasn't she?"

Sansa sighed. "Yes, well…please don't say that in front of him. She was his mother and he loved her. I'm just trying to explain why Tommen enjoys being babied sometimes. He's still innocent, despite who his mother was. He's lost as much as we have, Arya…I appreciate your kindness to him. And I know Jaime does as well."

Arya seemed embarrassed by the praised, keeping her attention on Julianna as Sansa finished getting ready for bed – putting on Jaime's soft tunic from the day before, which fell to her knees. She saw Arya looking at her choice of sleepwear strangely and Sansa blushed, embarrassed that she wished to sleep in Jaime's clothes. _It still smells like him. _She took Julianna from Arya and lay her on the bed, getting her ready to sleep as well while Arya lounged on the bed. Tommen came bursting in, carrying his basket of kittens, which he set before the fire. Arya looked at her sister pointedly as Tommen sat beside his little pets, telling them they were safe from the White Walkers in Sansa and Uncle Jaime's room.

"Goodnight, Arya," Sansa said with a smile.

Arya hugged her tightly and she returned her sister's hug. "I'll say a prayer for Jaime," Arya whispered as she left, calling out good night to Tommen. The boy said goodnight to Arya, and continued tending his kittens as Sansa slipped under the furs of her bed and cradled Julianna in her arms, cuddling her and speaking softly to her as Jaime did, to calm her for the night. She was a bit fussy – no doubt missing Jaime – and Sansa unbuttoned Jaime's tunic, slipping it off her shoulders and allowing the babe to suckle. She was almost weaned, but Sansa knew nursing would comfort the babe and would help her sleep.

She stroked her soft red curls and watched her little eyes droop as she suckled. Sansa looked over at Tommen who had crawled into bed beside her, watching as Sansa nursed the baby.

"Sansa?"

"Yes, sweeting?"

"When will Uncle Jaime come back?"

She leaned back against the pillows, settling Julianna more comfortably in her arms as she nursed and turned her blue eyes to the little boy. "I don't know. I wish I did. I miss him already."

"Me, too." She saw that his eyes were beginning to water and she reached over to take his hand. "Don't cry. You must be brave."

"Do you think he'll win? Do you think he'll kill the monsters?"

While Sansa knew that the outcome was by no means certain, she had no intention of saying that to the little boy who wanted her reassurance that Jaime would return. "If any man can beat them, it's Jaime."

"Has anyone ever beat the White Walkers?"

"Have you never heard the story of the First Men and the Battle for Dawn?" Tommen shook his head. _I suppose Southerners don't have much use for stories about the building of the Wall._ _I can tell him this story, it's shouldn't scare him._ Sansa smiled to herself as Old Nan's story filled her head.

"Thousands and thousands of years ago, a winter fell that was cold and hard and seemed it would never end. This was the time of the First Men and the Children of the Forest. During this winter, there came a night that lasted a generation. And in that darkness, the White Walkers came for the first time."

"Where did they come from?"

"They came from the uttermost North. The polar regions of the Land of Always Winter. What is now far beyond the Wall. The White Walkers were cold, dead things that hated iron and fire and the touch of the sun. They hated every creature with hot blood in its veins. Wielding razor-thin swords of ice, they killed and then raised the dead to fight the living." Sansa looked at Tommen's wide eyes and hoped she wasn't telling too scary a story. She was leaving out the horrible details that Old Nan had always told, but he was still just a little boy.

"What happened?" Tommen asked, excited to hear more of the story.

"The Children of the Forest and the First Men fought valiantly against them, but were driven southwards by the advance of the White Walkers. They weren't able to defeat them. The White Walkers swept over holdfasts and cities and kingdoms. They felled heroes and armies by the score, riding their pale dead horses and leading hosts of the slain brought back to life to do their bidding. All the swords of men could not stay their advance."

"So as cold and death filled the earth, the last hero set out into the dead lands. He sought the last of the Children of the Forest in hopes that their ancient magic could do what the swords of men alone could not. For years he searched, until finally he found them. Then, the last hero led the war against the Others, wielding his sword of fire, Lightbringer. He led the Children of the Forest and the First Men, who worked together, despite their differences. And they succeeded, driving the Others back to the Land of Always Winter and saving Westeros."

"When the White Walkers had been driven back to the far north, Brandon Stark, known as Bran the Builder, raised a great Wall of ice, gravel and magic, stretching one hundred leagues from the Gorge to the Shivering Sea to prevent the Others from coming to Westeros ever again. That's when Winterfell was built, and the Night's Watch was founded to maintain a watch on the Wall."

Sansa felt a bit sad, thinking how long Winterfell had stood…and now it was gone. Nothing but a ruin. Her home was gone. Everything was gone.

She glanced down at Julianna and saw that she'd fallen asleep at her breast. She normally would have the babe sleep in her bassinette, but with Jaime gone, Sansa wanted to hold the baby girl he'd given her in her arms, so she gently placed her on the mattress, settling her between she and Tommen, so the babe would not fall off the bed in the night. He immediately curled up next to his baby sister and softly kissed her forehead before resting his own head on the pillows.

"Does Uncle Jaime have a sword of fire like Lightbringer?" Tommen whispered, his eyes wide.

"No, sweetling. He has something better. He has a sword of dragonglass, sharper than any steel. Jaime can do what the hero did. I believe that. Shall we say a prayer for him?" Tommen nodded and Sansa took his hand again. "Do you want to say it?"

Tommen closed his eyes and began to pray for the Warrior to watch over his "Uncle Jaime" and to help him win the battle. "Sansa and Julianna and I love him and miss him. Was that all right?" he asked, looking at Sansa.

She nodded, leaning over to kiss his forehead. "That was perfect, Tommen. Good night."

"Good night."

Sansa curled up with her arms around Julianna, and her hand holding Tommen's. She saw that he was holding one of Julianna's little hands also and smiled as she closed her eyes. Sansa said her own silent prayer for Jaime. She needed her husband and the children needed their father. Darkness had fallen, and she imagined they were battling at that very moment. Or were about to. _Please be safe, Jaime. Please._

…

They spent the first day riding through Lannisport, stopping at every keep to see whether the residents lived or had died. Jaime was welcomed at every home they stopped at, and offered food and mead. They accepted some, so as not to use up the provisions they had taken with them. In return, Jaime offered the people of Lannisport some of the extra dragonglass blades he'd asked Gendry to bring along, and instructed them as to how to defend themselves from the White Walkers. Despite the circumstances, Jaime rather enjoyed speaking with those who lived in Lannisport and assuring himself that they were prepared for the Winter. He learned that Sansa had sent out provisions throughout the seaport when Winter began to threaten. Though they had not met her, most of Lannisport had kind words of praise for Lady Lannister.

"The people certainly seem to like you," Edmure commented as they rode from the last keep they'd stopped at. Jaime had divided his men up into five groups, fanning out over Lannisport. They planned to meet again outside the city – where the wilderness began to encroach.

"Surprised anyone could admire a Lannister?" Jaime asked peevishly. "Those who live in Lannisport feared crossing my father. Though they admired him as their lord. Like most of the Realm, the people's loyalty is to their lords first, not the crown. They don't fear me. They've no reason to."

"And they don't appear to blame you for the death of the Mad King."

Jaime smiled to himself. "Perhaps in Lannisport, they realize how mad he was." He didn't add that his father had launched a rather powerful propaganda campaign against the Targaryens in the Westerlands after Jaime had killed him. The Mad King did not have a single friend in Lannisport. Lord Tywin had always believed that Jaime would take his rightful place as his heir, and he wanted Jaime to have the support of his people. _I suppose my father did love me in his own way._

In speaking to the townsfolk, Jaime had learned quite a lot about the White Walkers. They traveled in groups of many wights with only a few of the White Walkers accompanying them. The townspeople had been using fire to battle the wights, which had proven successful. Despite their efforts, many had been killed and then raised again, though nowhere near as many as could have been. They described the White Walkers as tall and thin, with swords of frozen ice and piercing blue eyes that glowed from their heads.

It still sounded improbable to Jaime's ears, but he supposed he would find out for himself soon enough. Regardless, all who they spoke to were grateful that their Lord was seeing to the safety of the West. He knew that the sight of all of the red cloaks armed for battle must be a comfort. They didn't care who sat on the Iron Throne or who was Hand of the King. They only cared about having food in their bellies and heat for their homes. And now, not to be killed by the White Walkers.

He made a point of stopping at the keeps of old childhood friends and those of relatives – most specifically his young cousin, Joy Hill, the bastard daughter of his favorite uncle, Gerion Lannister. Jaime had offered her a place to stay at Casterly Rock for the Winter, but she had declined, assuring him that she was quite well where she was. Jaime had hoped she would accept his offer, and stay with Sansa and Tommen, but he understood her wishes. Despite her assertion that she was safe, he left a few guards to protect her, should the White Walkers pay them a visit.

Darkness had fallen the night before, and Westeros would remain shrouded in darkness for several days. The men slept in shifts, anxiously awaiting the appearance of the White Walkers, though many, like Jaime, were skeptical that they would indeed be battling these creatures from beyond the Wall. That is, until the first attack. Those who held the watch began banging pots together, waking everyone and screaming that "the Others" were coming, as they ran back to the camp.

Jaime was instantly awake, and affixed the dragonglass sword to his belt, as his men roused and prepared to fight for their lives. He felt the thrill of an impending battle, and any fear that he could not fight with one hand had vanished. It was as it had always been for him – his heart beating faster as his body prepared for battle. The archers lined up, with the other soldiers waiting behind, their weapons in hand. They stood with swords and spears in hand, watching the snow fall, waiting.

"Here they come," he heard Gendry say.

"Notch," Ser Addam called out, and fifty dragonglass arrows were pulled from as many quivers, and notched to as many bowstrings. From another direction, fifty arrows were pulled and notched, as the soldiers directly behind those archers waited to light them afire.

"Gods be good, there's hundreds," a voice said softly.

"Draw," Addam said, and then, "Hold." Jaime sat atop his horse, not far from Ser Addam, though he saw nothing but darkness. The Red Cloaks stood behind their torches, waiting with arrows pulled back to their ears, as something came up in the dark, slippery slope through the snow. Jaime turned and saw that the arrows had been lit. "Hold," Addam said again, "hold, hold." And then, "Loose."

Some were all in ringmail and some were almost naked…wildlings most of them, but a few appeared to be from various parts of Westeros between the Rock and the Wall. All had a pale, ghostly pallor, and piercing light blue eyes. As they got nearer, Jaime saw that their hands were black and some had flesh that was visibly rotting, yet they continued to come forward. Jaime had of course heard the legend of the White Walkers raising the dead, but he'd never believed it until that moment.

The arrows whispered as they flew, many hitting their marks. Those who were struck with the dragonglass arrows stopped dead and slammed into the ground, a hissing sound coming from their bodies. Those struck with the flames continued forward, until the flames overpowered them. As Jaime watched, amazed, the dead continued coming over the hill.

They loosed the arrows again and again, picking off many of the undead, though they couldn't get them all, and the wights began to move closer to the battle line.

"Prepare to engage," Jaime called out as he drew his sword. He could feel the blood roaring in his ears as the Others drew near. He kicked the sides of his horse and led the charge into the army of undead, Ser Addam, Edmure and the Northmen following.

He began to hear screams, as the Others began to overtake some of his men, but he also saw that the undead were being dropped rather quickly. As he got closer, and watched them, Jaime saw that the wights were clumsy, and not difficult for a trained warrior to overpower. Especially since Jaime and his men were armed with the proper weapons. He slashed at the Others and saw that the blade Gendry had made was a fine weapon, and sliced through the wights as if they were nothing. Though, Jaime soon realized that fighting from horseback with a single hand would prove rather difficult. While he could easily lead others from horseback, he could not keep a firm hold on the reins and swing a sword with only one good hand.

He felt a moment of panic as he was unhorsed, wildly slashing around him as the wights came near, two of them caught by his blade and dropping to the ground. He heard a loud thump behind him and turned to see that Edmure and Gendry had both dismounted, now fighting from the ground as Jaime did. There was no time to feel shame that he needed their help as the attack was relentless, and Jaime lost himself in the battle, fighting as well with his left hand as he ever had. _Perhaps the excitement of battle has made the difference._

What had begun as an organized battle had largely become a melee, as the Northerners and many of the red cloaks had also abandoned their mounts to fight on the same level as the wights. Jaime turned, cutting down many of the wights, and looked over at Gendry, and saw that one of the wights had him by the neck. He spun around and stabbed his sword through the wight – which appeared to have been a wildling in life – causing it to release the boy. Edmure appeared beside him and set it afire. He picked up the warhammer that had been dropped in the struggle, and handed it back to the boy.

"Thank you, m'lord."

Jaime heard an unnatural sound that appeared to be a horse from beyond the hill in front of him and turned to see the origins of the sound.

The rider was pale as ice. The White Walker slid gracefully from the saddle to stand upon the snow. Sword-slim it was and milky white. Its armor rippled and shifted as it moved, and its feet did not break the crust of the new fallen snow. The Other's sword gleamed with a faint blue glow. It moved toward Edmure, lightning quick, slashing. When the ice blue blade brushed the flames of Edmure's torch, a screech stabbed Jaime's ears sharp as a needle. The head of the torch tumbled sideways to vanish beneath a deep drift of snow, the fire snuffed out at once. And all Edmure held was a short wooden stick. He flung it at the Other, cursing, as one of the red cloaks charged in with an axe.

The wights had been slow clumsy things, but the Other was light as snow on the wind. It slid away from the axe, armor rippling, and its crystal sword twisted and spun and slipped between the iron rings of the man's mail, through leather and wool and bone and flesh. It came out his back with a hiss and Jaime heard him gasp as he lost the axe. Impaled, his blood smoking around the sword, the man tried to reach his killer with his hands and he almost had before he fell. The weight of him tore the strange pale sword from the Other's grip. Every man froze at the sight of the creature and the damage it had done.

The White Walker then turned his attention to Jaime, pulling the sword from the dead soldier's body and beginning to advance. Jaime felt his heart pounding in his chest as he faced this…thing…and wondered if the sharpened old rocks from his little brother's room could possibly kill such a thing. He thought of Sansa, and fervently hoped that it would work. Jaime rose up to his full height and swung at the neck of the White Walker, using his golden hand to brace the weapon in his left hand. He struck the thing in the neck, though the force of it ripped the sword from Jaime's hand.

He heard a crack, like the sound ice makes when it breaks a man's foot, and then a screech so shrill and sharp that Jaime went staggering backward and fell, knocking Gendry to the ground along with him. The Other's armor was running down its legs in rivulets as pale blue blood hissed and steamed around the black dragonglass sword embedded in its throat. It reached down with two bone-white hands to pull out the sword, but where its fingers touched the obsidian they smoked.

Jaime watched as it shrank and puddled on the snow, dissolving away. In twenty heartbeats its flesh was gone, swirling in a fine white mist. Beneath, they could see its bones, like milkglass, pale and shiny, and they were melting too. Finally only the dragonglass sword remained, wreathed in steam as if it were alive and sweating.

The Greatjon walked forward and began to scoop it up and flung it down again at once. "Mother, that's bloody cold." The large man walked over to Jaime, grasping him by his upper arms and placing him on his feet as if he weighed nothing. "As many things as you've killed, Kingslayer, I wager that's the most memorable. Even more than old Aerys."

The battle was ending around them as his men easily overtook the clumsy wights, dispatching all that remained. It seemed there was only the one White Walker among them. _Perhaps this was not so difficult_, Jaime thought, surveying the few of his men that had fallen.

"We'll have to burn all the dead," he said solemnly, assisting Gendry to his feet.

Ser Addam road over to them, his relief that Jaime was still alive plain to see. "We lost perhaps a hundred men. And killed five times as many wights."

"Perhaps we can return to the castle tonight," Edmure said optimistically. He clearly had no interest in engaging in a battle with these creatures any longer than necessary.

"Look, there!" Gendry called out, pointing far into the hills surrounding Lannisport. Jaime looked and saw half a hundred White Walkers, riding their undead horses, marching along the hills that surrounded Lannisport. He could not count how many wights marched among them.

"We'll not be returning to the castle for some time, Lord Tully," Jaime said grimly.

…

_This is only the first battle…they will continue battling in the next chapter, with a bit of a time jump. I borrowed the description of the White Walkers and how they die from the books. But, that chapter was from Sam's POV which is quite different from what I think Jaime's would be, so there was some tweaking _

_I can't thank all of you enough for the reviews. Whether you are someone who has followed this story from the beginning, and consistently gives feedback, or one of the many people who have only recently discovered and read the entire think – thank you so much!_


	67. Chapter 67

Chapter 67

…

It had been nearly a moon's turn since they left Casterly Rock. Jaime was freezing and exhausted. He wanted nothing more than to return to the comfort and safety of his home and his little wife.

After their first battle with the Others, Jaime divided his men into five groups of a thousand and ordered them to fan out across Lannisport and beyond. They marched further and further from Casterly Rock each day. Jaime was satisfied that there were no White Walkers – nor any wights - remaining in Lannisport. He knew some of his men thought it was enough to secure Lannisport, and that they should return to the castle, but Jaime was not satisfied. The battle had moved to the hills outside the seaport and Jaime was determined to drive the Others from the Westerlands, if not beyond. He and Gendry were sitting by the fire, keeping watch, as were several other groups of two throughout their camp.

Jaime leaned back, staring into the fire, and thought about Sansa. He knew that she must be worried that he had been gone so long. Jaime had sent two riders back to Casterly Rock a week ago, with word that he, Edmure and Gendry were well, hoping it would comfort her. Sansa had sent back a tiny parchment with three words: _I love you_. It seemed foolishly sentimental, but Jaime had kept her note, wrapping it in the favor she'd given him and kept it inside his surecoat.

He hated to cause her any pain – and he hated being away from her - but he knew that he had to leave her for a little while, no matter how much it might hurt the both of them. He knew she was safe at the Rock. He'd left many soldiers to guard her. Probably more than was necessary.

Jaime knew that if he did not see to it that the White Walkers were driven far from Casterly Rock, Sansa and the children would be in danger. And it was likely to be a long Winter. He didn't wish for them to gather strength and return to attack the Rock. He knew this was the right course. Still, he did miss his wife. Jaime had never before spent a night away from Sansa since they'd married, and the distance between them ate at him. He missed holding her at night, and he missed her sweet smile and her gentle touch. And he missed his daughter. And Tommen.

Jaime knew that marrying Sansa had changed his life, but he had not realized the extent of it. He'd been in battle many times in his life, and though he'd loved Cersei, he'd never longed for her the way he did Sansa. And Jaime had never before felt that he had something to lose. He'd always thought that he would die on a battlefield, in a blaze of glory. He expected it. Almost welcomed it. Now…he had so much more to live for. He had a family and a life and a future.

Lord Tywin had never encouraged his children to form strong attachments to anyone – one another included. He'd always told them that what was most important was their duty to House Lannister. Jaime had come to love Sansa above all else, including his duty to his house. Despite that, he hoped that his father would be proud of him and what he'd done with his life in the past year. He'd done so many things to be ashamed of in the past...now he was finally leading a life he could be proud of. He was married to a good, sweet girl, who loved him. And he loved her with his whole heart. He had a daughter – a legitimate heir – that he treasured. And he was finally able to act as a father to little Tommen.

Jaime leaned back against a large boulder and considered the black-haired boy across from him. He wasn't an artful fighter, but each day, he got better and better. More confident with each victory. "Arya tells me you're from King's Landing."

Gendry sipped from his cup of ale. "Flea bottom, m'lord. I lived there until I became an apprentice smith."

Jaime nodded, not surprised that the boy was from the ghetto just outside the castle. Robert Baratheon was hardly discriminating in his taste in women. He seemed to prefer the lowborn. Jaime wondered who had paid for his apprenticeship. Certainly not Robert. He'd never shown a moment's concern for the bastards he'd left all over the Realm. "Do you…have any family left?"

"No m'lord. My mother died when I was very young. Far younger than Arya. I don't remember her."

"And your father?" He wondered if the boy had any idea who his father was.

Gendry looked at him strangely. "My last name's Waters, Lord Lannister. I don't have a father."

"You may not have known him, but you had one. Did your mother never speak of him?"

He shrugged. "I don't remember much of her, except that she had yellow hair and she would sing to me when I was a little boy. She never said anything about…who fathered me. Not that I remember." Gendry looked at him curiously. "The Hand of the King asked me these same questions."

"Lord Stark?"

"And Lord Arryn before him."

_So they shared my suspicions that he was Robert's bastard. That explains how Cersei came to know of his existence. One of her spies must have given her the boy's name._ "When we met, you said that my sister, the queen, had sent men looking for you with a royal warrant. Red cloaks from the palace. Do you know why?"

Gendry seemed a bit fearful. "I wasn't lying, m'lord, when I said I didn't know. I don't know. I've never done anything wrong, I swear it."

"I didn't mean it that way. I think…I may know why my sister was looking for you."

"Why?"

He wasn't sure of the wisdom of telling Gendry who his father was, but he thought the boy should know. Especially since he could die during this journey they were on. "She believed that your natural father was King Robert. And…looking at you, I think she was right. You resemble his younger brother Renly very much and King Robert…rather enjoying spreading his seed throughout the seven kingdoms. I believe that's why Lord Stork and Lord Arryn sought you out. They…were looking for the King's bastards." Jaime watched the boy carefully, wondering how he would take the information.

Gendry shrugged. "I never met the King. He was nothing to me and I was even less to him." He met Jaime's eyes, and Jaime was relieved to see that the boy didn't appear to regard him any differently. "You didn't much like him, did you?"

Jaime took a swig of wine from his flagon, and considered his response. He certainly didn't intend to admit that he hated Robert for marrying Cersei. That he was a rival for her affections. "Robert…was an excellent warrior. But he was a terrible king. And a terrible husband. At least, he was to my sister. He dishonored her every day, fucking whores right under her nose and groping women in her view. I don't know if things would have been different, had he married Lyanna Stark. The woman he believed to be his true love. I'm sorry I don't have better things to say about him."

"It's no matter…why did you tell me? That he was my sire?"

"Everyone should know where they come from," Jaime said, thinking about Tommen. He'd begun to think that Sansa was right – that he should tell Tommen that he was his father. _He should know where he came from. _Jaime wasn't certain how the boy would react to the news, though Jaime knew he would be happy to call Julianna his sister. And Sansa his good-mother. _He does love Sansa very much. If I told him the truth, he would know that her marriage to me makes her Sansa his mother. _

Jaime put these thoughts aside, resolving to discuss it with Sansa when he returned to the Rock. She knew Tommen better and was closer to him. She would know whether or not he should be told the truth about who his father was. For now, he needed to focus on finishing his task of ridding the Westerlands of the White Walkers. Then he could make a decision about Tommen.

…

Sansa sat near the window at the end of the hallway, just outside her chamber door. Julianna was fast asleep in her arms, and Tommen was asleep in her bed. The entire castle slept, though Sansa felt wide awake.

Jaime had been gone for more than a moon's turn and tonight was one of the nights that Sansa was having a difficult time getting the baby to sleep. Julianna was used to Jaime holding and cuddling her and speaking quietly to her before bed, as he always did. Most of the nights Jaime had been gone, Sansa had been able to soothe her, but this was one of those nights when Julianna was restless and would whimper and cling to Sansa as she turned her head around the room. Searching for Jaime. She was far too little to understand where her father had gone.

Not wanting to keep Tommen awake, Sansa had taken to walking up and down the hallway outside her chamber, with Julianna in her arms. Sometimes she would sit and look out the window, trying to see the torches Jaime and his men carried, as she rocked Julianna in her arms. Mostly, she would only see the large bonfires that told her they were burning bodies. She wasn't certain whether to be glad that Jaime and his men were making progress or horrified at how many had died. Though, it had been many days since she'd seen the fires or any sign of Jaime's men. Nothing since she'd sent the note to him, telling him she loved him.

Julianna had finally fallen asleep in her arms, but Sansa felt wide awake. She stared out the window, hoping she might catch a glimpse of Jaime's fires. As she stared out into the blackness, she wondered where Jaime was and if he was all right. She wondered if he was thinking of her.

Sansa heard footsteps and turned abruptly toward the sound, relaxing when she saw that it was Roslin. "What are you doing up?" she whispered, beckoning for Roslin to come and sit with her.

"I haven't slept well since they left," she confessed, looking over at Julianna. "Is it still difficult for her to sleep without him?"

Sansa looked down at the babe in her arms, tucking her legs under her body and settling Julianna on her lap, careful so as not to wake her. "She misses him. If I didn't miss him so much as well, I might feel badly that she clearly prefers Jaime to me."

Roslin smiled and shook her head. "She'd be just as out of sorts if you were gone. Do you think Jaime will send another message?" Sansa knew she wished to hear word about Edmure. Jaime had mentioned in his note that both Edmure and Gendry were well. Roslin and Lady Catelyn had been visibly relieved to know that he had not been harmed.

"I hope he will write again…though I'd rather they just return."

Roslin stared out into the darkness. "I never thought that Edmure would give me another chance. After…what happened. I'm so afraid that he was given back to me, just to be taken away. To punish me for…what my family did. For what I did."

"They will return," Sansa said. "The gods would not be so cruel as to take Jaime or Edmure from us. Nor from their baby girls."

"After all that's happened to your family, you still believe that the gods aren't cruel?"

"You sound like Jaime," Sansa said, looking down at the babe in her arms and gently stroking her cheek. "I often think about when she was born…when Jaime first met her. I confess I was...exhausted and in pain but…I watched as Julianna was placed in his arms for the first time. He looked at her and… I could see when he held her that they belonged together." Sansa looked up at Roslin. "I _know_ that he will return."

…

"Hurry up, Kingslayer! You and your delicate southern flowers need to keep moving! We're wasting what little daylight we have."

_Five weeks_, Jaime thought._ I've had to put up with the Stark bannermen for five weeks. _Jaime wondered if the company he kept was the reason why Eddard Stark was so grim. Any admiration the Northern lords had for Jaime after his slaying of the White Walker was short-lived, and they were back to being ornery and provoking disputes. Though, he allowed, they seemed to have a bit of respect that he was fighting beside them, and not simply riding behind as Commander. It was grueling, but he'd proven himself still a formidable warrior. Even with only the one hand.

"Would you kindly shut up and ride?" Jaime asked sweetly.

"Getting a bit testy there, Kingslayer?" Lord Manderly asked with a smirk. "Real fighting – a real Winter – is nothing like the luxuries of standing guard in King's Landing, is it?"

_They act as if I'm Renly Baratheon, who couldn't even lift a sword, and wasn't fit to rule over anything more than a dinner party. As if I've not been to war. As if I've not fought beside their beloved Eddard Stark._

Edmure smiled from the top of his horse, riding beside Jaime. "They're just trying to get a reaction from you."

It was boredom, no doubt. They had only encountered only one other White Walker since the one that Jaime had killed the first night. Lord Umber killed the second one and was mighty proud. Of course, nearly twenty red cloaks had been killed before the Greatjon was able to drive a spear through the thing's throat. They were now many days ride from Casterly Rock.

All of the men agreed that there were no wights remaining in the Westerlands. The large, clumsy undead were easy to track. Especially in the freshly fallen snow. For the first two weeks, it seemed they killed and burned hundreds every day. Now, nothing. It had been nearly a week since they had seen any combat.

Unlike the wights, the White Walkers were nearly impossible to track. They were so light that they did not leave tracks in the snow. It was only in the darkness that they could spot the blue of their eyes and their thin swords. But even that had not been seen in days.

"Perhaps with all of their wights dead, the White Walkers have died as well?" Gendry suggested, no doubt sharing Jaime's feelings that they had been riding for days with no action.

"I don't think so," Jaime murmured as he dismounted. "We may as well camp here for the night."

"How far into the Winter are you planning to take us, Kingslayer?" Greatjon umber groused as he dismounted.

"I thought you Northerners liked the snow? You should be quite pleased that your cold, grey North has followed here."

They were all tired and in ill-humor. The groups had divided further as they continued their march, and Jaime was currently leading 500 men, who began to make camp for the night and negotiate who would take the first watch, and who would sleep.

Jaime heard the eerie whinny of a horse – not quite real – and knew they'd been led into a trap. He turned to see that they were surrounded by half a hundred White Walkers. Some gracefully slid from their mounts, while others remained atop their undead horses. Each held the same icy blue sword, their eyes beaming an intense ice blue light.

The archers scrambled to notch their arrows, but it seemed the Others had expected that, and those on horseback charged them in the confusion. Jaime could hear the sound of ice cracking as some of the arrows hit their marks, sending half the riders flying from their mounts as smoke poured from where the arrows had pierced them.

But the archers could not get all of them at once, and the survivors were merciless, taking the heads off as many archers as they could, before they were able to reload. After the first attack, the White Walkers circled around Jaime and his men to rejoin those of the Others who were on foot.

"Burn them!" Jaime called out. They could not waste a moment, less the White Walkers bring the dead red cloaks back to life as wights.

No less than thirty men had fallen, and Jaime's men wasted no time setting them aflame with their torches. It only took moments for the corpses to be consumed, and the smell of burning flesh was sickening. The fire kept the White Walkers back, but they would only burn for so long. And Jaime wasn't there to hide from them, he was there to kill them.

"Prepare to charge," Jaime called out, pulling the dragonglass sword from his belt.

"Jaime, if we wait behind the flames, they might leave," Edmure proposed.

"To what end? So they can trap us again and kill another thirty men? Let's finish this." Jaime raised his voice to address all of the men. "Make this the final battle of this war…this second Battle for Dawn! This is a battle for our lives. For the lives of all of Westeros. For our wives and children's futures," he shouted, looking pointedly at Edmure. "While you may be fighting beside someone you consider an enemy - the Others are an enemy to us all! We'll not let the creatures of Winter take over Westeros. We'll not let them kill us! Charge!"

Jaime boldly charged toward the remaining forty-odd White Walkers, who charged toward him in response. Though he never looked behind, Jaime was confident that his men were following – both on horseback and on foot. A voice told him he was being reckless, but he pushed the thought aside. _I have to end this. We're so close to success. _Jaime knew this could be his last chance to prove that he was still a warrior.

He slew two Others, as the melee spread out among him, both screams and the loud cracks of ice which signified dragonglass cutting through one of the White Walkers, filled the air. Despite the freezing cold, Jaime felt hot as the blood roared through his veins and the thrill of battle overtook him.

He approached another White Walker, which slashed at him with its sword. Jaime jumped back, out of his reach, before engaging again and found that smoke and a horrible cracking sound filled the air each time their swords crossed. He lunged forward, stabbing the Other, and a loud crack filled the air. Steam poured from the wound, but the White Walker pressed forward, slashing at Jaime again with the narrow blue sword. He felt a wave of cold slice through him. So cold it burned before he plunged his sword into the White Walker's chest, twisting it as the cracking sound filled the air. It was so loud Jaime had to resist the urge to cover his ears. He shoved the Other backwards, his sword still protruding as steam flowed from the wound, and the Other began to melt away.

Jaime turned and saw that his men were winning the battle. He saw that Edmure and Addam were trying to kill one of the Others, and another was approaching them from behind. Jaime charged forward, pulling the dagger at his waist and plunging it into the back of the white walker's neck, another horrible crack filling the air.

White Walkers covered the ground, steam pouring from them as they melted away to nothing but milky glass bones. Jaime surveyed his men and saw that there were a few minor injuries and many deaths. It appeared nearly all of the Northmen had survived. He saw that Edmure and Ser Addam were unharmed. Jaime had difficulty slowing his breath and pushed aside the thought that he may be getting too old for this type of thing.

"We'll begin our return to the Rock tonight," Jaime called out. He looked over at the Northerners. "I'll not forget how bravely you all fought. When the thaw comes, I'll allow you to go North. With enough supplies to ensure you make it there." Gendry walked over to Jaime, leading both of their horses. "Survived, did you, Gendry? That's good…Arya would not have forgiven me if I returned without you."

As the boy gets closer, he sees that he is gaping at him. "M'lord…" he began, a panicked look on his face.

"What is it?"

Edmure and Addam had walked over to them by now, and the two men immediately moved towards Jaime, grasping his arms as if they expected him to keel over at any moment. Jaime looked down and saw that when the White Walker had slashed at him, he had not been as successful in jumping out of the way as he thought. The thin, glassy sword it carried had sliced right through his armor and leathers, and blood was seeping out, nearly covering his abdomen. He'd seen the damage those icy blue swords could do and supposed he should be grateful he wasn't sliced in two.

"We have to get him back to the Rock. To the Maester," Edmure said, calling for the sparse medical supplies they had on hand. The two men Jaime had brought with them who were trained in caring for injuries had been killed during a particularly bloody battle with the wights.

"It is four days ride, Tully," Jaime muttered, as the adrenaline of the battle wore off, and pain began to set in. Not only across his side but his entire left leg burned with pain. He reached down to touch his leg and saw that his armor had been sliced through there as well and blood covered his hand. He could feel the blood running down his leg, inside the armor. "I suppose we should leave now. And hope I don't keel over before we return to the Rock."

…

_Wow – over 800 reviews and over 300 followers. Thank you all so much for the comments and encouragement. It makes it very easy to continue to write the story and to update on a regular basis. _

_One question I meant to answer last chapter that have been mentioned in the comments: I haven't decided if Bran and Rickon are going to stay dead or not…I keep going back and forth on it, because I could make it work either way with my overall plan for the story. Regardless, it will be a ways down the line before it's addressed._

_Next Chapter: Jaime tries to get back to Sansa alive_


	68. Chapter 68

_An update before the new episode tonight..._

_..._

Chapter 68

"_You're…so handsome," Sansa whispered, cuddling in his arms, her breasts soft and warm against his chest. "So golden and…perfect." She softly kissed his neck, and slid her hands from his shoulders down over his chest and down to his hips. She glanced up at him, her eyes lidded with desire. "I could lie here with you for hours. Just holding you." _

_He smiled and nuzzled against the space between her neck and shoulder, inhaling deeply and letting the sweet smell of her fill his senses. "I love you, sweet girl," he whispered before covering her lips with his own. He growled low in his throat as her lips moved against his, one of her hands tangled in his hair, holding him still so she could thoroughly kiss him. _

_He finally broke their kiss and pressed his forehead against hers. _

"_I love you, Jaime," she whispered, her eyes gleaming with love for him. He stared into her eyes, as blue as the Sunset Sea, and felt her fingers trailing over his back. He could get lost in those eyes, and had on more than one occasion. _

_He finally broke their stare to allow his eyes the pleasure of looking over her body, thinking how beautiful she was lying there, naked. He reached out and touched her, slowly moving his hand over her body. Sansa's skin was impossibly soft and he rather enjoyed the sight of his own golden skin moving over her snow white complexion. He leaned over her, kissing her mouth and neck, smiling as she rested her hand on the back of his head, teasing the hairs on the back of his neck. _

_Jaime lightly kissed and bit at her neck, marking her as his, while his hand caressed her breast. He couldn't resist taking one of her hardened nipples in his mouth. He loved her breasts. He loved how they felt in his hands…and in his mouth. The little chirping noises she made as he suckled on her only encouraged him to continue. Sansa arched her back, unconsciously spreading her thighs and Jaime accepted the invitation, burying himself inside her. _

"_Come back to me," she whispered against him as he rolled his hips and thrust into her. _

"_Sansa…"_

"_I love you, Jaime. I need you with me." Sansa wrapped her legs around his waist and her fingers trailed down his face. "Be strong and come back to me, my love."_

Excruciating pain shot through his leg and brought Jaime back from the more pleasant thoughts he'd tried to lose himself in. They were riding over a particularly rocky terrain – and at a quick pace at Jaime's insistence - and the jostling was like a knife in his side at every step. The pain from his injuries had begun as a dull throb when they began their ride back to Casterly Rock and quickly became an almost unbearable stabbing as time progressed.

The only relief Jaime found was to do the same thing he'd done when the Mad King burned Rickard Stark and when Vargo Hoat took his hand – he went away inside and shut his mind off from everything around him. For the past three days, Jaime had lost himself in memories of Sansa. He remembered holding her and making love to her. He thought about her sweet smile and her gentle touch. When he closed his eyes, he could hear her telling him that he loved him. _I need Sansa. I need to see her and I need her to hold me._

Jaime gripped the saddle, knowing that his reunion with Sansa and his children was within sight. All he had to do was survive another day's ride. _One more day. You can stay alive for one more day. For her._ They had been riding for three days and, if they continued their current pace, they should reach the Rock the following evening. The pain of his injuries grew worse with each day that passed and Jaime kept telling himself that he only had to hold on for a little longer. _Seeing Sansa will heal me. I just have to get back to the Rock. Back to Sansa._ He couldn't stop the groan of pain that came unbidden to his lips.

"Don't die just yet, Kingslayer. Lady Sansa will have all our heads if you're not breathing when we return you to her. If you're going to die, wait until after we reach the Rock." Jaime wanted to snap at Lord Umber to shut up and ride, but he knew there'd be no point. Despite the freezing temperatures, Jaime felt uncomfortably warm. _Fever must be setting in_, he thought, remembering how he had suffered when his stump was infected.

Ser Addam had removed most of his armor before binding his injured leg and wrapping thick strips of linen around his chest and stomach, over the layers of boiled leather. He had hoped that the pressure would stop the bleeding, though Jaime had bled through the dressings twice already. They had tried to put him in the nearly empty food-wagon for the journey back to Casterly Rock, but he refused to be carted around like an invalid and insisted on riding his horse.

Three days later, he was beginning to regret his choice. Not that he would ever admit. Nor would his pride allow him to ride in a wagon.

Jaime had been able to hide the pain for a while, insisting that he was fine, but he could see Edmure and Addam were not fooled. Jaime could barely remain atop his horse. He was forced to use his right arm and his one good hand to hold on, leaving him unable to direct his horse. Gendry had seen his difficulty and silently tied Jaime's horse to his own. It was humiliating, but he knew that he had to let the boy help him if he had a hope in hell of making it back to Casterly Rock alive.

He remembered how he'd fallen from his horse again and again after the Bloody Mummers took his hand. He remembered how they'd laughed at him and mocked him. Jaime would not allow his men – or the Northmen – to see him so weak. So he held onto his saddle, refusing to fall off, and forced his thoughts back to Sansa. He forced away the pain and retreated inside his mind again, thinking about when Julianna was born. He remembered the moment he first held his little girl in his arms. When he finally met the little creature he and Sansa had been eagerly anticipating for months. He'd immediately felt that the infant in his arms was _his_ and that he was hers. _I have to live for my daughter. I have to see her again._

"We're stopping," he heard Addam call out to the group and saw Gendry reach for the reins on his horse, slowing both Jaime's mount and his own.

"No. We'll keep going. We're nearly there," Jaime ground out, doing his best not to show the agony he was feeling. "There's only a day's ride left."

"It's the middle of the night." Addam looked him over, the pity evident in his eyes. "The men are tired."

He could see that his friend was lying – trying to spare Jaime's pride. "The men? You've always been a terrible liar. We both know you're stopping for my benefit. Because you think I'm too weak to go on. I don't need to rest." His words were unconvincing, even to Jaime's ears.

Edmure Tully strode over and he and Addam helped Jaime down from his horse, despite his feeble protests that he did not require their help. "Don't be an idiot, Lannister. We've scarce stopped riding and you've not stopped bleeding for the past three days. You're not up to it."

"What do you care?" Jaime snarled, his pain taking away what little patience and courtesy he had.

"My niece values your miserable life. I promised to bring you back in one piece. And that's what I intend to do." He sighed, looking Jaime over. "You've bled through the dressings again. Will you reconsider riding in the wagon?"

Jaime shook his head. "I've made it this far. I can stay alive for one more day."

"Sit down for a few minutes at least," Addam said, exchanging a look with Edmure. "We'll change your dressings again and…then we'll continue on. If you insist that we not stop for the night."

"I do." Jaime bit the inside of his cheek as they removed the linen strips covering his wounds and bound his injuries anew. Much as he wanted to, he would not scream. Not there.

_I must return to Sansa._

…

Sansa sat at the window in her darkened bedchamber. Tommen and Julianna were asleep in her bed, but Sansa was restless. She wrapped her arms around her legs and rested her head on her knees, staring out into the darkness. Jaime had been gone for so long, and she'd not heard anything from him since that first letter. Sansa was beginning to panic. She had not seen the fires for weeks and she was terrified that Jaime and his men had all been killed by the White Walkers.

She managed to put on a brave face during the day. The face of the Lady of Casterly Rock. After the first day that she had hidden away in their bedchamber, Sansa realized she was being childish. She was not acting as a lady should. So, she forced herself to go about the business of running the castle. The servants and Jaime's soldiers had to see that she was up to the task. They needed to see that she was worthy of being Lady of Casterly Rock.

She had pulled herself together for the children as well. For Tommen and Julianna. Sansa had learned that Julianna was sensitive to her emotions. Whenever she was upset, the babe was noticeably uneasy and would begin to cry. Sansa didn't want them to see her tears and she didn't want Tommen to fear for Jaime any more than necessary. She tried to be positive and reassure them that Jaime would return.

But at night, when she was alone, Sansa allowed the scared little girl inside to come out. _Why hasn't Jaime returned? _She didn't know how long she could keep up the façade that everything was all right. She felt like she was only a few days away from completely falling apart. She was ashamed of herself when she thought of how long her mother had waited alone while her father was away at war. Lady Catelyn had waited years for him to return to her, and Sansa was falling apart after a little over a month.

_What if he doesn't ever return? _Sansa was terrified to think about what would become of her and the children if Jaime were to die. The thought of becoming as powerless as she had been before her marriage to Jaime – before she became Lady of the Rock – was what made it impossible for her to sleep. She loved Jaime with all her heart – as she would never love any other man. But he was also her protection. He was the only one who had been able to protect her. She felt her eyes fill with tears as she thought about the possibility of never seeing Jaime alive again.

_I can't lose him. I can't._

"Don't cry, Sansa," Tommen whispered in a quiet little voice. She saw that he was standing beside her and wiped her eyes, not wanting him to see her cry. _I have to be strong for him. I can't scare him._

"What are you doing up?"

"I heard you crying," he said, reaching out to take her hand. Sansa reached for him, lifting Tommen onto her lap. He wrapped his arms and legs around her, resting his head on her shoulder. Sansa held him tightly, rubbing her hands over his back, fighting the tears that rolled down her cheeks. "If Uncle Jaime doesn't come back…will you still take care of me?" he asked hesitantly.

Sansa could hear the waver in his voice, and knew he was trying not to cry. _He must be terrified that Jaime will die and I'll abandon him like so many others have before._

"No matter what happens, I'm going to take care of you. I will always take care of you, Tommen. I promise." She held the crying little boy, and pushed aside her own grief so she could be strong for him. _For Jaime's son._ Sansa sat back and took Tommen's little face in her own hands, wiping his tears away with her thumbs. "Jaime is going to come back to us. He is. I know it. You must believe that."

"Will Uncle Jaime come back soon?"

"I hope so, sweetling. I know you miss him. I do, too. But whenever I miss him, I need only look at you. You look so like him, Tommen." The little boy smiled at that. She knew how much he looked up to Jaime and wanted to be like him.

"I promised Uncle Jaime I would take care of you while he was gone," he whispered. She and Tommen had grown close in Jaime's absence. He never strayed too far from her and he helped take care of Julianna. And of her. She smiled, thinking of how he would kiss her cheek before bed and tell her that everything would be all right. She had come to love the little boy as if he were her own child. Even Lady Catelyn had commented on how protective the child was of Sansa.

"You have taken care of me, sweetling," she whispered, hugging him again. "You've comforted me very much." She rubbed her hand in slow circles over his back and kissed his forehead. "Jaime will be very proud of you. Of how brave you've been. Thank you for being so sweet to me, Tommen," she whispered, blinking back tears.

"You're my family," he whispered. "You and Uncle Jaime said so." She smiled, closing her eyes and resting her head on top of Tommen's as they held one another.

…

Jaime and his soldiers returned to Casterly Rock the following night.

Early in the afternoon, the cry had gone up that Lord Lannister was returning. The scouts up on the battlements had spotted the soldiers in the distance, riding hard for Casterly Rock with their Lannister banners flying, and immediately alerted the entire castle. The returning soldiers were far in the distance when the scouts first announced them, and they had an hour or two to prepare.

Sansa had dared not hope that it was true – that Jaime was returning to her - until she looked out the window for herself and saw the torches moving towards the Rock. _Thank the gods. _

She ordered the staff to prepare a hot meal for the returning soldiers and to light the fires in the great hall and in the soldier's barracks. She ordered that a barrel of wine be brought up from the cellars, to help warm the men up and celebrate their return. She could only imagine the horrors they had seen and freezing temperatures they had endured for so long. The least she could do was make certain they returned to a hot meal and a warm bed. The staff had immediately rushed about, doing as she asked, and a general feeling of excitement filled Casterly Rock.

The guards notified her when the returning soldiers reached the road leading to the Rock. She threw on her cape and took Tommen's hand before quickly walking down to the Lion's mouth. The two babies remained upstairs in the castle but Lady Catelyn, Arya and Roslin joined them, as well as the majority of the staff – all wishing to greet the returning soldiers. Sansa knew that Roslin was equally relieved that Edmure was back home.

As she stood there with Tommen and her family, Sansa took a deep breath, trying to calm her racing heart. She had waited so long for this moment, and Sansa could scarce believe that Jaime was finally home. Tommen smiled up at her as the soldiers began to turn the cranks, raising the gate and opening the Lion's Mouth to allow the returning men entrance to the fortress. She squeezed his hand as she heard the hoof beats of the horses running toward the gate. _He's home. Jaime's home._

"Will Uncle Jaime come in first?" Tommen asked, looking up at her.

"I don't know, Tommen. We'll have to look for him. There are a lot of soldiers returning."

"Do you think they killed all the White Walkers?" Arya asked, craning her neck as if she expected them to bring a dead one back with them for her to see.

"I hope so," Sansa said, growing impatient for the return of her husband. "I expect Jaime would not have allowed them to return if they had not."

The riders began pouring in, and Jaime was not among the first several hundred to ride through the gate. She didn't despair, since she'd not seen Ser Addam, Edmure or Gendry either, and expected he would be riding near them. Those who had arrived were already off their mounts and embracing those who were there to welcome them. Some had their wives in their arms, while others merely embraced their fellow soldiers who had remained behind, and began telling stories of what they'd seen outside the castle.

Sansa looked down at Tommen and saw his eager little eyes looking for Jaime. She finally saw her husband ride in beside Gendry and let go of the breath she had not realized she had been holding. In the back of her mind was the possibility that they might have returned without him. That he might have died on the battlefield. Though she'd not dared speak that thought aloud.

"There he is!" Tommen said, pulling at her hand and pointing. Jaime was looking down at his horse, and he seemed exhausted. She thought he would come to her, but he seemed in no hurry to dismount, so she made her way over to him.

Sansa began weaving her way through the crowd of returning men, not wanting to wait a moment longer to feel Jaime's arms around her. She felt Tommen holding her cloak as he followed her through the crowd of soldiers. As she neared Jaime, he was still on his horse, though Gendry had dismounted and was standing beside him. Jaime was filthy and had grown a beard, but he was alive. When she finally reached him, she saw that Gendry was helping him from his horse. _Why does he need help dismounting?_

Jaime turned and his eyes focused on her and she smiled, never feeling such happiness and relief in her entire life. He looked pale and there were dark circles under his eyes. _He's been too long in the cold...and more than a month sleeping on the ground. A night in our bed and a warm meal with be just the thing._ She threw her arms around him, hugging him tightly and resting her head against his chest.

"You're home!" Jaime didn't return her embrace. Instead, he gasped in pain and practically collapsed against her. "Jaime?"

Gendry and Ser Addam gripped Jaime's arms, holding him up so he didn't knock her to the ground. Tommen wrapped his arms around Jaime's leg, welcoming his uncle home, and she saw Jaime absently rest his hand on the boy's shoulder, though his head was down, his chin practically on his chest. _What's wrong with him?_

He whispered her name, like a prayer, and she felt her blood run cold. She rested her hand on Jaime's cheeks, tilting his face up so she could look him in the eyes. "What's the matter?" she whispered softly, kissing his lips. He felt unnaturally warm and she moved her hand to his forehead. "You're burning with fever."

"Sansa," he whispered horsely, reaching his hand up to touch her face.

She began looking him over for injuries, parting his cloak, and she saw rags soaked in blood wrapped around his middle and around one of his thighs. _Oh, gods. My poor Jaime. _As she tried to look at his injuries more closely, she saw that Jaime was gritting his teeth in pain.

"What happened to you?"

"He was injured by the White Walkers. Their swords cut right through his armor and the boiled leather beneath," Ser Addam said, continuing to hold Jaime on his feet. "We did as much as possible, without a Maester, and got him here as fast as we could."

Sansa called for Pia to send the Maester to their bedchamber. "I'll take care of you, Jaime," she whispered, forcing back the tears that threatened to fall. "I'll make you better," she promised, as Tommen began to cry. "You came this far…and I'll make you better." His eyes were glazed with pain and she knew that he was suffering.

Jaime leaned forward, resting his head on her shoulder. "I came back to you," he whispered against her neck, kissing her weakly. "I came back to you."

…

_As always, thank you for the reviews and for continuing to read. At least Jaime's finally back with Sansa, though he's not in good shape...Remember: reviews help motivate me to update faster :) _

_Next chapter: Jaime fights to survive his injuries_


	69. Chapter 69

Chapter 69

…

Ser Addam, Gendry and Edmure had to carry Jaime back to their bedchamber, though he'd fought and argued with them the whole way, insisting that he was fine and could walk on his own. Sansa wanted to scream at him that he was certainly not fine and to stop acting like a child, but she told herself that he was in suffering and she had to be patient with him. She'd never considered that Jaime would return to her so physically broken.

"Jaime, please let them help you. Don't be so ungracious…so stubborn…" She knew it was his pride – that he did not wish for so many people to see him so helpless and hurt. She knew he'd prefer to hide away in a dark corner alone to lick his wounds, but his injuries were far too serious for that. He must have heard in her voice how close she was to breaking, because he shut his mouth and let them help him the rest of the way to their bedchamber.

Tommen and Arya had followed close behind them, both wanting to help Jaime. Arya even tried to help carry him, hoisting one of his legs onto her shoulder, until Sansa pulled her back, getting her out of the men's way. Sansa kept her eyes on Jaime's face, and she could see that he was in pain, but was working hard not to show it. She feared he would be screaming in pain if he were alone, with no one else to hear him. Once they placed him on their bed, Jaime angrily told everyone to get out.

"Go to your wife, Tully. I'd expect you'd rather be in her bedchamber than mine after more than a month away from her. All of you – go! Enjoy the welcome feast," Jaime was yelling, but she could see that he was actually quite weak and that it was an effort for him to be so ill-mannered. "Maester Marwyn will patch me up. I don't need all of you as nursemaids," he muttered quietly.

Sansa sat beside him on the bed, rubbing his back. She was the only one he didn't push away or yell at. She nodded to the men to go. They would need to be alone if she was going to calm Jaime and make him feel better. "Thank you for getting him back here…alive. He'll – he'll be fine now." Edmure squeezed her shoulder in comfort as he left. Sansa began to remove his cloak. She saw that he was trying not to cry out from the pain of his wounds. He was breathing deeply and gritting his teeth, his hand clasping her waist hard enough to bruise.

"Tommen, I need you to back up a bit, so I can help him," she said patiently, as the boy clung to Jaime's arm. She was beginning to worry that she couldn't care for Jaime with the children in her way, though she knew they only wanted to help them. She was debating telling them to leave – though she doubted they would - when she heard her mother's voice from the doorway.

"Arya, come take the baby. Now," she said, more sternly, when Arya hesitated to leave Jaime and Sansa. She turned her head and saw her mother put Julianna in Arya's arms before coming into the room and taking Tommen's hand, prying him away from Jaime and wrapping her arm around his shoulder.

"Let Sansa take care of him, all right? He'll be well." She couldn't hear what Tommen said to her mother as she walked him out of the room, but Sansa saw her wipe away his tears and lead all of the children from the room, closing the door and leaving she and Jaime alone. She knew her mother would never help her take care of Jaime – she was still so angry with him - but at least she helped her with the children.

"I returned to you," Jaime whispered, his eyes closed. It terrified her to see him in such pain. He was her brave, fearless knight. She'd seen him in pain emotionally, but she never doubted his physical strength. She had never seen him in such physical agony – so weak and broken. It was such a contrast to how strong and in control he always had been. She didn't even want to imagine how awful it must have been when he'd lost his sword hand.

"You did, Jaime. You returned to me, just as you said you would," she whispered gently, running her hand down his face, watching as he leaned into her touch as if it were a healing balm. She wished it were that simple to take away all of his pain. "Maester Marywn will need to clean your wounds. If I help you, do you think you can walk to the bathing room?"

Jaime nodded, his face etched with pain as he stood. He leaned against her heavily and groaned as she slowly walked him into the bathing room and helped him sit on the edge of the marble bath. Sansa began removing his clothes, first gently unwinding the bloody linen strips wrapped around his chest and stomach. She could see that he was fighting the pain, clinging to her with his good hand. "It's all right, Jaime. Don't fight it…you can scream if you have to. Anything that will make the pain bearable," she whispered, as she removed the layers of leather that covered his body. She didn't know if he'd be able to raise his arms so she could remove his tunic, so she found her scissors and cut up the middle, peeling it from his arms. She sucked in her breath at the sight of the bloody gash across his side, the edges angry and red with infection.

"That bad?"

She'd never seen a wound so horrible, other than her father's beheading, but Sansa would not allow herself to think that Jaime might die. She pressed a kiss to his mouth, his beard tickling her face as she did so. "You're going to be fine. I won't allow anything to happen to you."

"This isn't the homecoming I'd planned, Sansa."

"You're home. That's all that matters. Life isn't perfect…It's not a song…you're home." She knelt on the floor in front of him and began working on the rest of his clothes, pulling off his boots and then moving to the laces on his breeches.

"I'm sorry you're not…taking off my clothes under...more pleasant circumstances, Sansa."

She supposed she should be glad that he was in good humor, but she didn't have it in her to be amused. He was softly petting her hair as she stripped off his breeches, leaving him naked. An equally horrible wound was across his thigh and she began to despair. _How could this happen to him?_ As she looked over his body, she saw that he was pale all over – not from cold as she had thought, but from losing blood. He met her gaze and she leaned over him, wrapping her arms around his neck and holding him. "You're safe now, Jaime. I'll take good care of you. I promise."

He nodded weakly, nuzzling against her neck. "Sansa…I feared I wouldn't see you again."

She cuddled him against her, knowing that her touch soothed him. At least a little bit. "You're going to do more than just see me again. Jaime, you are going to get well and we are going to be together for a long time."

Maester Merwyn came in just then with his bag of potions, and quite a lot of equipment. "You needn't see this, my lady. Wait with your daughter in the nursery and I'll speak to you when I'm done."

She shook her head. "I'm not leaving him. I'll help you."

He considered her for a moment, and then looked at Jaime who was leaning against her, miserable, and nodded. "My lady, would you be so good as to wash his wounds while I boil the wine? Use hot water – as hot as he can stand."

Sansa nodded, waiting for the water to heat before cleaning the deep slashes on her husband's body, as gently as possible. He groaned in pain every time she touched him and she murmured apologies, leaning over and kissing his temple. She wanted to cry, knowing that while her touch had always brought him pleasure, now it was causing him pain. When she'd finished, Maester Merwyn leaned over Jaime, peering at the injuries and clicked his tongue.

"What is it?" Sansa asked.

He raised his eyes to Jaime's. "I don't know how you always manage this, Jaime. Ever since you were a boy…this is by far the worst injury you've come to me with." His eyes flicked to Sansa. "Infection has begun to set in, though not too badly. I'll flush it with boiled wine and then cut away the bits of dead tissue. I'll flush it once more with the wine and then I'll sew it up."

Sansa sat behind Jaime, helping to keep him upright as the Maester worked. She softly stroked his arm, trying to comfort him. She kissed his shoulder, resting her head on it and wrapped her other arm across his chest, tracing her fingers over his skin.

The wine was poured over his leg first and Sansa was horrified by Jaime's screams of pain. She'd never heard such a mournful sound and she didn't know what to do to help him. He clutched her hand tightly and struggled, though the Maester was stronger than he looked and held Jaime still as he bucked and fought, until finally Jaime gave up and leaned his head back against her shoulder as he roared with pain.

Maester Merwyn stopped after the first pour and left the room for a moment, returning with a leather belt, folded in half. Sansa had no idea what it was for, but Jaime seemed to, grunting as he took it from the Maester's outstretched hand and placed it in his mouth, biting down on it.

"Can't you give him milk of the poppy? Something to take away his pain?"

Jaime shook his head in the negative, adamant. "He's never allowed me to give it to him, my lady. Not even as a child. Stubborn," he said with disapproval as he went for more wine.

They adjusted Jaime's position and he poured the second kettle of wine over Jaime's torso. Sansa didn't know what was worse – the piercing screams of pain from before, or the anguished panting and tears flowing from Jaime's eyes as he practically bit through the leather strap in his mouth. She stroked his hair and saw that his gaze never wavered from hers, even as he moaned in agony. Sansa knew that she couldn't look away from him. She couldn't close her eyes to block out the horror before her. _He's getting strength from looking in my eyes._ She wanted to cry and to fall apart, but she knew that she could not. _I can be brave for him. He's in so much pain. This is nothing for me._

Sansa continued to stare into Jaime's eyes – not able to bring herself to look at what the Maester was doing as he approached Jaime with some awful looking scissors and a small blade to cut away any dead skin. Jaime leaned back against her, clutching her thigh with his one good hand as the Maester tended to his injuries. She didn't know what to do and just held her wounded lion in her arms, whispering over and over that she loved him.

"I'd take some of your pain myself if I could," she murmured against his ear. She found herself wishing he would just pass out from the pain, but he did not. _My poor Jaime._

"Now I'll need to sew up the wounds." She watched as the Maester took out some threads and poured wine over them and burned the tip of a needle in the flame. The man was old and his hand appeared a bit shaky.

"I'll do it," Sansa said, sounding braver than she actually was. He looked at her in question and she nodded. "I insist." She ran her hand over Jaime's face, and removed the belt from his mouth.

"Let her do it, if she's up to it," Jaime ground out. "Her stitches will likely be prettier than yours."

"Very well, my lady. We should move him to the bed. You'll have an easier time if he's lying down." Together they helped Jaime to the bed, settling him on his back. Sansa pulled a chair over from the fire and took the needle and thread from Maester Merwyn after pouring the boiled wine over her hands to clean them.

"You won't reconsider the milk of the poppy?" the Maester asked Jaime, clearly expecting to be refused. "Every stitch will be agony."

"I never had any milk of the poppy when they cut off my hand. Nor when the healer at Harrenhal cut away the dead skin on my stump. That was far worse than this. I'll just scream."

Maester Merwyn looked at her nervously, and Sansa took the milk of the poppy from his hand, uncorking it. "Don't be so stubborn, Jaime. Please don't make me listen to you scream and see the pain I cause you with every stitch. Please. I won't allow anything to happen to you. I'll take care of you, while you can't." She knew it was difficult for him to give up control, but he must have seen her desperation to end his pain. He took the bottle from her and drank it.

Sansa leaned over and kissed him as he was swept into dreamland.

She followed the Maester's instructions, stitching up first the deep cut to Jaime's leg, and then the cut across his side. Though the cuts were deep, he didn't think the muscles had been damaged. Sansa was amazed that her hand wasn't shaking and she was able to block out everything and focus on sewing up Jaime's bloody injuries. She felt such calm that it was as if she were stitching a blanket for Julianna, not sewing up gaping wounds in Jaime's skin.

When she finished, the Maester applied a salve to Jaime's wounds, and left a small jar of it with Sansa so she could continue to apply it several times a day to prevent any further infection. Maester Merwyn had her hold Jaime while he poured an elixir down his throat. He told her it would work the fever and infection out of his system, though he warned her that the fever would get much worse before it got better.

"Lady Lannister…do you truly insist upon caring for him yourself? It won't be easy. _He_ won't be easy. I've cared for him since he was a boy and...he's very difficult when he's wounded."

"No one will be taking care of my husband but me. It's my duty. And…I want to take care of him." He smiled and patted her shoulder, murmuring that Ser Jaime was fortunate to have such a devoted lady wife.

After he left she draped a coverlet over Jaime's legs, covering him to the waist and shakily lowered herself into the chair beside him. Sansa wasn't certain how long she sat there, watching Jaime sleep. Her hand was shaking as she thought about how easily Jaime could have died. She supposed he still could. Sansa shook her head, chasing away such thoughts. _I won't let him die. I'll make him better. _

She heard the door open and Pia entered, carrying in a tray of food, followed by Lady Catelyn. Pia placed the tray down and looked at Jaime, the concern evident on her face. "Will he be all right, m'lady? The boy keeps asking me."

"Tell Tommen that…he has a slight fever but…he should be all right in a few days."

Sansa turned her attention back to Jaime, listening to her mother speak quietly to Pia. "See to it that all children have their dinner…Arya included." She heard Pia agree before leaving and then felt her mother rest her hand on her shoulder. "Julianna can sleep in my room tonight."

"No, Mother, I can't ask you-"

"I know you'll want to be up all night with him. I'll look after the baby."

"Thank you."

"You should eat something, my love."

"I…I'm not hungry, mother."

"You'll not do him any good if you wear yourself out." Her mother pulled her to her feet, and began to lead her toward the bathing room.

"No, I can't leave Jaime."

"He'll be unconscious for quite a while," she murmured. "We'll be right in here. You'll hear him if he should wake."

Her mother filled a basin with clean water and put Sansa's hands in it. She watched as the water turned pink with Jaime's blood as her mother gently rubbed her hands. She'd not even realized that she had his blood on her hands until then. Her mother moved behind her and began pulling at the laces on her gown. Sansa looked down and saw that blood stained the front of her gown. _Jaime's blood._ She began to cry as her mother stripped off her bloody clothes and wrapped a dressing gown around her.

Her mother held her, rubbing her back as she cried on her shoulder. "Shh…it's all right, my love. It's all right."

Sansa shook her head. "He could still die from infection."

"You'll pray for him and you'll take care of him. The Maester said he has every reason to believe that he'll recover."

"I don't think I could go on without him," she whispered, clinging to her mother.

"You should have something to eat," she said, leading Sansa back to her chair in front of the fire and forcing her to eat something before she resumed caring for Jaime.

"Thank you. For taking the children out of here...I know they wanted to help but..."

She nodded. "Tommen and Arya have been playing with Julianna. Though Arya's bossing Tommen around more than anything. He takes it well." Sansa smiled and ate a spoonful of the thick stew Pia had brought her. "I spoke to Lord Umber. 'Foolishly brave,' I believe, is how he described Jaime in that final battle. Where he was injured. He said that he fought as well as those with two hands."

"Are they back in the dungeons? Father's bannermen?"

Catelyn nodded. "Yes. Though Ser Addam ordered that they be given extra furs to sleep on, a barrel of wine and an entire roasted boar for their supper. It seems they'll have improved accommodations for the duration of the winter."

"That's good," Sansa said, looking over at Jaime, unconscious on the bed. Her mother sat with her, and pressed her to eat her dinner, as if she were a little girl once again. Once she'd eaten enough to satisfy her mother, Sansa heard the sound of the chamber door opening and saw that Pia had returned. Tommen walked beside her, clutching her hand and nervously looking around the chamber, until he saw Jaime and dropped her hand.

"He insisted on seeing Ser Jaime for himself before going to sleep, m'lady."

"Careful, Tommen," Sansa said quietly, seeing that he was climbing onto the bed beside Jaime. "You can leave him for a few minutes," she whispered to Pia. "I'll send him to his room once he's seen Jaime."

"Are you certain, m'lady?" Sansa nodded, hugging her mother goodnight and leaning against the door as it closed, leaving her alone with Jaime and Tommen. She sat back in her chair at Jaime's bedside and saw that the boy was looking at the large wound on Jaime's side.

"Does it hurt him?" he asked.

"It doesn't hurt him now, but…he was hurting badly before. That's why he was in such a foul mood earlier."

"He's not moving," Tommen said, looking up at Sansa, his chin quivering.

"We gave him medicine so he would sleep. So he would not feel any pain." She took Tommen's little hand and placed it on Jaime's chest. "Do you feel his heart beating against your hand? He's alive, sweetling."

She watched as Tommen kissed Jaime's forehead. "I love you, uncle," he whispered, sitting beside him. Sansa ran her hand over Jaime's hair, brushing it off his face. She removed the golden hand so Jaime could sleep comfortably, and saw Tommen staring curiously at the stump where Jaime's sword hand used to be.

"Mother said Uncle Jaime changed when he lost his hand."

Sansa leaned back in her chair beside and considered Tommen. "He did change, Tommen. But I think…he would say that he changed for the better. That he lost a lot of himself, along with his hand but…he gained many things as well." _He was given Julianna. And me. And I was given him._

"You won't let him die, will you?"

Sansa saw that Tommen was staring down at Jaime, tears forming in his eyes. She took Tommen's chin in her hands, tilting him up to face her. "He is not going to die. I won't let that happen. I promise you. Now, you should go to bed. You can visit him again in the morning."

Tommen nodded. "May I hug him?" he asked.

"Of course, sweetling. Just don't touch where he's hurt, all right?"

Tommen smiled and carefully hugged Jaime. "I'm glad you're back. Good night, Uncle," he whispered. Sansa helped him off the bed and he hugged her tightly. "Good night, Sansa."

"Good night."

After Tommen left, Sansa slipped off her shoes and climbed on the bed next to Jaime, folding her legs under her as she sat beside him. She rested her hand on his chest, over his heart, and felt it beating – just as she'd had Tommen do. His skin felt very warm and he was groaning in pain in his sleep. With his beard, he looked as he did when he first returned to King's Landing. Before they had fallen in love. _I had no idea when he draped his cloak around me and got me away from Joffrey that he would change my life as much as he has._ She gently ran her hand over his broken body, seeing many smaller bruises and scars, besides the two horrible wounds that currently threatened his life.

"Don't make a liar of me, Jaime. You must fight. You must fight and get well." She leaned over and kissed him. "I love you, Jaime. I love you." She kissed his shoulder as she rested her head on it, her hand resting on his heart.

…

_Thank you for the amazing reviews. There's quite a bit more to this story, and I'm glad all of you are still interested and enjoying it. Sorry Jaime is suffering (especially after last week's show), but at least he has Sansa to take care of him and comfort him._

_Next Chapter: Jaime fights to get well_


	70. Chapter 70

Chapter 70

…

"Sansa…I have to get back to Sansa…"

The milk of the poppy had worn off not long after Sansa fell asleep beside Jaime and she woke to him moaning in pain and the sheets soaked with his sweat. She waited for a while, to see if Jaime would fall back asleep. When he didn't, she sent for the Maester, and stood beside the bed as he examined Jaime, twisting her rings nervously as she waited to hear what he would do to help him. She hated to see him in such pain.

"My lady, this is to be expected. It means the elixir and the salve are working – they are drawing out the infection. He's sweating out the poisons in his blood."

"But he's in such pain. He can't sleep. He tosses and turns and then moans in agony. Should we give him more milk of the poppy?"

"He's not conscious, my lady. I know it's difficult to watch, but it's best to let him suffer through, as long as he is strong enough." He must have seen her horror and distress. "I'll send for some servant girls to watch over him…there's no need to distress yourself, Lady Lannister. You can sleep right next door in your chambers, and they'll come to you when the fever has passed."

She immediately shook her head. "No! I'm not leaving him to…a servant. He's my lord husband. I'll not abandon him." _He keeps calling my name. How could I possibly leave him to servants?_ She knew that Jaime would want her with him. She could see that her presence was some small comfort to him. He was much more restless when she was not touching him and speaking to him. And she wanted to be there when his fever finally broke and he woke up. _I need to be here the moment he wakes._

Once they were alone again, she filled a basin with cold water and gathered a pile of small linen towels, which she soaked in the water and placed on his forehead and around his neck, trying to cool him. She remembered once when Arya had a fever that this was how her mother had made her feel more comfortable.

"Sansa…Sansa…"

She gently kissed him as he continued to call for her. "I'm right here, Jaime. I'm right here."

He was delirious and tried to get up but gasped in pain, falling back on the bed. "Lie back down. It's all right, Jaime. You're in no condition to get up. You have to lie down for a while…I know you hate to be still. But, I'm not going to leave you. We'll be here together." She knew he was not himself when he began to reach for her with his stump. _In his fever, he's forgotten that he's lost his hand._ She gently covered his wrist with her hand, placing it on his chest, and felt him grab her other hand.

"Sansa…"

"Shh…try to sleep. I'll be right here." He was looking at her, but his eyes were glassy with fever, and she wasn't certain that he actually saw her. He was still incoherent with fever and kept calling her name.

"Sansa…Sansa…I love you...Sansa…" He pulled her to him, burying his face in her hair. She let him hold her for a while, until he drifted off again, and then she carefully extricated herself from his grasp, sinking back down into the chair beside the bed. She held his hand and closed her eyes, trying to sleep so she'd be better able to care for him.

Sansa didn't know how long she slept, but she woke to Jaime shivering as if she'd thrown him naked out in the snow. She got blankets, and gently draped them over his body, careful not to disturb his gruesome wounds, as he continued to shake from a non-existent chill in the air. She climbed into bed with him, holding him against her and was disturbed by how hot his skin burned – it was like fire.

She kissed his temple and held him tightly, as he shivered and moaned in pain. She felt tears coming to her eyes before she could stop them. It terrified her to see Jaime suffering as he was, and she didn't know what she could do to take away his pain. _I'd do anything to help him. Anything to ease his suffering. Even if it meant I were to suffer. _

He clutched her hand as he gasped out her name over and over again. _Does he not know I'm here? Does he think he's alone?_

"I'm here, Jaime," she said through her tears. "I love you…and I'm here with you. You're not alone, Jaime. You're not alone this time." She thought back to what he had told her about when he lost his hand – how he had been in horrible pain and all alone, with no one who loved him there to take care of him. "I love you, Jaime. Please don't die," she whispered in his ear. "I need you. And Tommen and Julianna…we all need you. Don't leave me like so many already have. I don't know any man stronger than you are, Jaime. You can fight this. I know you can." She began to cry against his chest.

"Sansa…love you…"

"I love you, too. You made it back here to the Rock. Back to me. Now you must fight this fever. You've just fought the White Walkers…you can fight a silly fever. Please, Jaime." She closed her eyes and began to pray. _Please don't take him from me._

…

_He was in the throne room with the Mad King once more. The dragon skulls hung from the walls and Aerys Targaryen sat on the iron throne. The Kingsguard was lined up on either side of him. All his brothers – both the fallen and the new. Arthur Dayne, Boros Blunt, Meryn Trant, Osmund Kettleblack, Gerald Hightower, Barriston Selmy, Arys Oakheart and all the rest._

_Jaime was not standing beside the rest of the Kingsguard. He was suspended over the throne room as Rickard Stark had been all those years ago. Jaime was naked and he struggled against the ties that bound him to no avail. A large black dragon sat at the Mad King's feet, and Sansa was there, holding Julianna and crying hysterically, begging someone to help him. She tried to get to Jaime but Meryn Trant held her back as she struggled against him._

"_Burn him!" Aerys screamed, his eyes glistening in excitement, as the dragon flew below Jaime and began to blow it's fire at him. Jaime and Sansa both screamed as his flesh began to burn._

Jaime woke with a start, sitting upright and gasping in panic. He felt searing pain across his side and his thigh, which quickly forced him back down onto the bed. _It was only a dream. _He vaguely recalled Edmure and Addam dragging him back to the Rock, and Sansa and Maester Merwyn treating his wounds. _That's the burning – where the White Walker cut me._ He pulled back the blankets covering his body, and grimaced at angry red slashes across his body. He remembered Sansa insisting on sewing up his wounds herself. _Poor Sansa had to do every perfect little stitch._ There had to be hundreds of them.

"You were unconscious for three days. Your fever only broke last night."

Her voice was quiet and tentative, but it soothed him more than any medicine. He turned his head and met Sansa's eyes. _She's so beautiful. _She was sitting in a chair beside his bed, and he closed his eyes in pleasure as she brushed his hair back from his face and ran her fingers over his head.

"Sansa…"

He could barely speak, his throat was so dry and painful. He reached for her and she took his hand, threading her fingers through his. "Shh…It's all right, Jaime." Sansa poured a cup of water before sitting beside him on the bed. "Do you think you can sit up? If I help you?"

He nodded and held onto Sansa as she helped him into a sitting position, sliding partially behind him to prop him up. It hurt, but not so badly, with her help. Sansa held the cup of water for him as he drank, clearly not believing he could manage it on his own. She filled it again, and he began to feel better after the second cup of water. She piled some pillows behind him and turned to sit back in her chair. Before she could move away from him, Jaime gripped her arm and pulled her against his chest, resting his head on her shoulder. It felt good to hold her again and breathe in the scent of her. She slowly wrapped her arms around his neck, hugging him tightly. Jaime closed his eyes and sighed, as he held her. He felt wetness on his neck and she began shaking in his arms as she sobbed.

"Don't cry, Sansa. I'm not going to…I'm not going to leave you." It was an effort to do it, between the searing pain in his side and his weakness, but he reached up to stroke her hair, trying to comfort her. He could imagine how terrified she must have been. He vaguely recalled her pleading with him not to die. He knew that if he were in her place, sitting helplessly at her bedside for days while she was suffering, it would have driven him mad. "I'm sorry I worried you…I'm not going to leave you."

She nodded. "You were…delirious with fever and I thought…I was so afraid. I was so afraid that I would never feel you hold me like this again."

He pulled her tighter against him and cursed as pain surged through his side. _I can't even hold my wife without pain._ "I'm sorry," she said, noticing him wince in pain. She moved away from him and carefully eased him back against the pillows, kissing his forehead. "Are you comfortable? Are you in pain?"

He shook his head. "I'm all right. I'll be better when I can get out of this bed-"

"You're not well enough for that yet, Jaime," she said quickly. "You lost so much blood and…then you were fighting the infection." She urged him back onto the bed, against the pillows, and sat down beside him, running her hands over his chest, carefully avoiding the large injury on his side. "Let me take care of you. Are you hungry? You've had nothing but broth for the past few days and even that was a struggle...What do you need?"

"I'd like to see my dau– my children. I'd like to see my children." If Sansa had a thought about his referring to Tommen as his child, she didn't voice it aloud. Though he could see in her eyes that she had noticed his word choice. While Tommen might never mean as much to him as Julianna did, he cared about what happened to him and he wanted what was best for him.

"Tommen came to see you several times every day. He sat here talking about his kittens and about his practices with Arya. She's been spending time with him, as you asked. I think he's grown on her. Tommen was very worried about you. Both of them were. Julianna…I thought she might be scared that you weren't awake or talking to her, so I haven't brought her to you, but...I'll go get her now. Tommen's downstairs in the kitchen but the babe's just down the hall. I'll be right back. You just wait."

She wasn't gone but a minute before she returned, carrying little Julianna. Sansa looked so happy that she was bringing their daughter to him. _She's changed so much in the past month_, he thought, looking at his daughter as Sansa neared. Her features were more developed – she looked less like a baby and more like a little girl. She looked even more like Sansa than he had remembered. Jaime wondered if the babe may have forgotten him in the month he'd been gone, as she watched him curiously. Sansa sat on the bed, and Julianna held her tightly, looking at him uncertainly – no doubt confused by his beard as well as the time apart.

"You know who that is, sweetling? Your father's back home…he's come back to us, Julianna," Sansa cooed. "She's almost started walking," she said as she smoothed down her hair. "If I hold her up, she can move her feet."

Jaime met the babe's eyes and reached out, gently stroking her cheek with his index finger. "Julianna…my precious little lioness." Her eyes lit up and she smiled, leaning shyly back against Sansa. "I missed you. I missed my sweet baby. I missed the both of you very much," he said in the same low voice he spoke to her in when she was going to sleep and Julianna stretched her arms out toward him.

"…da da…da…da…" She began babbling and lurching towards him. Sansa smiled and held her waist as she tried to walk to Jaime, guiding her across the short distance to her father's arms. Jaime hugged the babe to his chest with one arm, smelling her baby scent, as she squealed and giggled. He felt that he was truly home as he held his daughter in his arms.

"This will make it easier for you to hold her," Sansa murmured, placing a couple of pillows beside him and helping him to set the baby on top of them, so he wouldn't have to support her weight or lean her against his injury. He hated that he could barely hold their baby without suffering exhaustion.

"You've grown so big. You're going to be as beautiful as your mother," he told the baby softly as she cuddled against him. He smiled down at her as she reached up to touch his face. "She's so beautiful," he murmured.

"I'm glad…you can hold her again…talk to her again…"

Jaime finally looked away from the baby in his arms and studied his wife. He could see the shadows under her eyes and correctly guessed that she'd not slept more than a few hours since he'd returned to her. "I'm sorry, Sansa. I'm sorry, sweet girl, for putting you through this. Thinking about you was the only thing that kept me alive out there. I knew that I had to get back to you. I knew that you would heal me."

She smiled, as she leaned toward him, nuzzling her nose against his before kissing him softly. "I love you," she whispered against his lips, kissing him once more before moving away. Jaime shook his head.

"I'll need a few more kisses…to heal me." She smiled, tangling her fingers in the hair at the back of his neck. He watched her eyes mist with emotion as she kissed him again. "I love you, Sansa," he whispered between kisses. He pressed his tongue against her lips, seeking entrance and she smiled and pulled away.

"That's enough, Jaime. You shouldn't get over-excited," she whispered, smiling and wiping the tears that were threatening to fall from her eyes. _I'll make this up to her_. He felt terrible for how much he had put her through the past few days…and months.

"Uncle Jaime!" Tommen burst into the room and ran over, jumping on the bed and climbing over Sansa to hug Jaime, resting his head on his shoulder.

"Tommen, be gentle," she whispered. "He's still hurt."

As he looked at the boy, he realized that he had missed him. For the first time, when he looked at Tommen, he didn't see Cersei. He saw himself – he saw that the boy was his blood. He saw a boy that was his to raise.

"I'm glad that you're better, Uncle. I was scared." Jaime hugged the boy back, stroking his golden curls. "I took care of Sansa, like you asked," he said proudly, leaning back against Sansa while Jaime held Julianna.

"Did you now?" Jaime asked with a smile, meeting Sansa's eyes.

"He took very good care of me." Sansa leaned over and kissed Tommen's little cheek. "He was a great comfort to me while you were gone."

Tommen chatted to him about all he had missed, and how worried he was about him, for several minutes. He glanced over at Sansa, who was watching he and Tommen speak. She looked so happy just to be there with them. He caught her eye and smiled, holding Julianna close. She reached over and stroked Jaime's hair, brushing it out of his face.

"You look tired," she whispered. "Tommen, I think we should let Jaime rest. You can come talk with him again later."

He nodded happily. "I'll visit you again tonight after dinner."

After Tommen left, Sansa adjusted the pillows and helped Jaime lie back down. She reached to take the baby from him, but he shook his head. "I'd like to hold her for a while longer." She moved the pillows that had been propping the baby up and placed her on the bed beside Jaime. "Lie here with us?"

She nodded and removed her slippers, stretching out beside he and the babe. Julianna climbed on top of her, and Sansa moved closer to Jaime, resting her head on his chest. "I'm not hurting you, am I?"

"Not at all," he murmured, kissing her temple. Julianna stretched out on top of her mother, resting her head on Sansa's chest as she studied Jaime. "Even if it did cause me pain…it'd be worth it to hold the two of you again."

"What – what happened out there? With the White Walkers? Are they gone?"

"Has no one told you?"

She shook her head. "I've not left this room. Ser Addam and Gendry both came to see you but...you were hurting so much, I didn't want to hear their war stories. Was it terrible?" she asked, watching as Julianna crawled over her to lie on Jaime's chest. She looked at him with concern that the babe would hurt him but he shook his head, stroking his hand over Julianna's back as she made herself comfortable, resting her head against him.

"It was like nothing I've ever seen. The wights were bad enough…dead men brought back to life. We burned hundreds of them. But the White Walkers were just as that book of Tyrion's books described – tall and slender, with ice blue eyes and ice blue swords. When we stabbed them with the dragonglass…they cracked like a frozen lake breaking beneath your feet, and steamed and melted away to nothing. We killed them all, though."

Sansa leaned over and kissed him. "At far too great an expense. You saved the Realm again – this time from ice, not fire…and most of them will never know. Again." The way she looked at him made him believe he was an honorable knight. "You should sleep…regain your strength and allow your body to heal."

"I can't sleep –"

"Ser Addam did mention what a terrible disposition you had on the journey home. That you refused to sleep and insisted on riding your horse, despite bleeding through your bandages again and again – no doubt weakening yourself further. You're hurt, Jaime. You need time to heal." He saw her eyes drift to the baby and back to his and he could almost see her mind working. "Will you at least hold her until she falls asleep? There were many nights you were gone that she would not sleep. Many nights that she just cried and looked for you. For her father."

"I see your game, Lady Lannister." He suspected she was simply trying to keep him abed, but there was no way he could refuse her request to hold their babe until she fell asleep. Not after the weeks of dreaming about being there with them again. Of holding them again.

Sansa tilted her head and smiled at their babe, cuddled up in Jaime's arms. "For her – even more than myself – I'm so glad you've returned."

He nodded, looking down at his baby girl and held her tighter. "You look tired as well, sweet girl. You've not slept at all since I returned have you?"

She avoided his gaze, gently petting little Julianna's hair as the babe snuggled against Jaime, a happy, peaceful expression on her face. "She remembers you. Even with your beard. She looks so secure in your arms." sansa finally looked up at him. "How could I sleep when you were so miserable? When you were suffering, and moaning in pain…calling for me?" She shook her head. "You'd not have slept either, if it was me."

"Lie down? Until _the baby_ falls asleep?"

Sansa smiled, nodding and curling up beside Jaime. She kissed his shoulder as she snuggled close to him. "I love you, Jaime. And I'm so grateful to have you back with me." Jaime carefully wrapped his arm around Sansa, gritting his teeth at the sharp pain when he stretched his arm. He looked down at her and saw that her hand rested on his chest, on top of one of Julianna's tiny hands, and her eyes were closed. _She looks peaceful. And happy. _Jaime took a deep breath and closed his eyes as well, feeling himself drift off to sleep as his girls lay in his arms.

…

_70 chapters! I never thought it would go on this long...and there's still more to come! _

_As always, thank you for the wonderful reviews. And thank you for those who have just started reading this and got through the whole thing in a day or two. After last night's episode, I hate to torture Jaime any more than necessary…_

_Next Chapter: Jaime is a terrible patient (not surprising)_


	71. Chapter 71

Chapter 71

"I have not the least intention of lying in bed for days on end like a feeble old woman."

Sansa sighed in exasperation. Jaime had regained consciousness only two days ago and he was already fighting her at every turn, insisting that he was well enough to leave their bed. _Does he expect to just go about his day, with those horrible wounds?_ He was far too proud to admit that he was in pain from the horrible wounds that he bore, but she could see that he was during unguarded moments when he thought she wasn't watching him. Sansa was certain if she allowed him to leave the bed he would collapse, he'd lost so much blood. It had been a constant battle to keep him resting, and she almost longed for when he was delirious with fever. At least then he didn't argue with her about staying in bed.

"I don't mean to wound your pride, Jaime, but right now, you have the strength of a feeble old woman. You've lost a lot of blood."

"I'm quite well, despite what you think. You can stop your tricks, by the way. Do you think I haven't noticed how you always manage to put Julianna in my arms when it's her nap time? As if I'm a babe in need of a nap."

"Do you think I haven't noticed how quickly and soundly you fall to sleep when I do? Your body needs to rest." She took his hand in both of hers. "The best thing for you is to stay in bed, Jaime. I want you to get well."

He smiled at her, leaning over for a kiss. Sansa gently cupped his cheek, her fingers tickled by his beard, and returned his kiss. She had expected a rather innocent kiss, but Jaime responded with passion, kissing her again and again. Her other hand was gently resting on his shoulder, and she felt Jaime move it down over his bare chest. "Perhaps you'd like to make it worth my while to stay in bed," he whispered against her neck. "Slip off your gown and join me? I could use some exercise after all this time sitting."

_He can't be serious. He was near death two days ago. _"You're far too weak for…that," she said quickly, moving to put some distance between them. "Your wounds aren't even healed enough to bandage, yet. And the Maester said it will be weeks before you regain your strength."

He raised an eyebrow at her. "_Weeks?_ I'll not be in this bed for weeks."

"Jaime, please it's for your own go –"

Before she could try to reason with him, there was a knock at the door and Jaime bid whomever it was to enter. Arya came bounding in, an excited smile on her face. "Mother said I could finally come visit you," she said to Jaime, climbing onto the bed beside him. "I wanted to see you sooner, but Sansa said I had to wait, because you were too weak for visitors. Are you better?"

"Yes."

"No, he's not."

Arya looked between the two of them, uncertain how to respond. "Can I see where they stabbed you?"

"Arya," Sansa said in disgust at her clear excitement to see a bloody wound. "Why would you want to see that?"

"I'm just curious. I've never seen an injury from a White Walker's sword. No one ever has." She turned back to Jaime. "Can I see?"

He smirked and pulled the blanket down to his waist, showing her the large wound across his side. It wasn't as inflamed with infection as it had been when he arrived, but it was still ghastly to see. Sansa could see that Arya was thrilled by the spectacle and gore – thrilled to see a real battle wound.

"Does it hurt?"

"Yes. Not that he'll admit it," Sansa ground out.

"How many stitches are there?" she asked once Jaime had pulled up the blanket, hiding the hideous cut from sight.

"Hundreds," Sansa said quietly. "I stopped counting after a time."

Arya looked at her in astonishment. "You sewed his wound closed?"

She nodded. "Perhaps now you don't think the time I spent with Septa Mordane was entirely wasted."

Arya smiled, and Sansa saw a new respect in her sister's eyes before she turned her attention back to Jaime. "Uncle Edmure said that the White Walkers had thin blue swords that looked like they were made of ice," she said excitedly. "What did it feel like when it stabbed you?"

"It felt cold. Cut right through my armor," Jaime said, smiling at her enthusiasm. Sansa knew he had missed her as well as Tommen and Julianna. She was glad that her husband and sister were so fond of one another. It made her feel that she had a real family again.

"Gendry said that you continued to fight, and killed two more White Walkers after you were stabbed."

"I didn't know I was hurt for a time."

"You know, you should have taken me with you," Arya said, a scolding tone in her voice.

Jaime tried to sit up more and reached for his side as he did, in clear pain. "Oh? Does it hurt? I don't understand it. You've healed so completely," Sansa said sarcastically and he met her eyes with a glare.

"Arya, what would you have done if I'd taken you with me?"

"I could have helped you in the battle. I could have stabbed the White Walker in the leg and stopped it from hurting you. You could have died," she said quietly. "I couldn't help my father but…I could have helped you." Sansa looked away, feeling emotional at the mention of their father's execution.

Jaime smiled softly, seeing that the child had worried for him. "You're right. I could have died," he allowed. "But I didn't. The both of you should stop fretting over me. I'm quite well."

"Can we start practicing again, soon?" Arya asked and Sansa sighed inwardly. She was never going to be able to keep Jaime in bed if Arya was prodding him to get up and be active.

"Perhaps in a few days we can resume your training," Jaime said, smirking at Sansa.

"You will _not_ be sword fighting in a few days. I'll not allow you to leave this room until Maester Merwyn said it's all right, and I'm satisfied for myself that you're well."

"Until _you're _satisfied that I'm well? Earned a Maester's chain while I was gone, did you love?" _He's trying to provoke me_, she thought as Jaime turned his attention back to Arya. "Did you practice while I was gone?"

Arya nodded, smiling. "I practiced with Tommen, like you asked. And one of Sansa's guards practiced with me, too. He's not as good as you or Ser Addam, but he helped me practice everything I've learned. Will you teach me to fight with a dagger? There are so many dragonglass ones down in the forge now."

"Sure. Go get one. I can teach you that right now."

"Don't you dare," she hissed at Arya. "I have another idea for how you can pass the time." Sansa crossed the room and picked up a large wooden box. "This may not be as exciting but, I found this in the library and I thought it might entertain you." She looked at Arya. "This is why I asked mother to send you up here today for a visit – _not_ so you could be a bad influence. It seemed like something the both of you would like."

In all honesty, Sansa needed a break from trying to entertain Jaime. He was not a man meant to relax. Nor was he meant for a sickbed. She always knew that her husband was a man of action, but she had no idea it would be such an effort to get him to rest in bed while he healed. She could see he was going half mad after only two days confined to bed. And he was exhausting her in his determination to act as if he weren't injured.

"What is it?" Arya asked, opening the box Sansa had placed in front of her.

"Tyrion always begged me to play this with him when he was a boy," Jaime said, smiling sadly at the memory. "You'll like it, Arya. It's a game where you try to conquer all of Westeros. I assume you'd like to use the wolf as your playing piece?"

Arya nodded, her eyes moving over the intricately carved map of Westeros. Sansa could see that it was quite well-made and likely cost a small fortune. The game board resembled the type of maps used to plan military operations. They set the map between them on the bed and Sansa noticed that Jaime selected the lion for himself. She hoped it would keep them occupied. It seemed to Sansa that the game was rather complicated and would take hours to play – at least she hoped that it would.

"You'll stay here and play with her?" Sansa asked hopefully. She wished to have some time to herself, just to take a hot bath and relax without worrying about Jaime over-exerting himself and causing further injuries. She'd begun to feel as if Julianna wasn't her only baby, given the amount of time she spent watching Jaime. Sansa didn't trust him not to get out of bed, but she thought Arya would keep him occupied for a time.

"I promise I'll stay here with her," Jaime said, looking at Sansa curiously. "Where are you going?"

"I just wanted to take a bath and…"

"Get away from me?"

"No," she said quickly. "I enjoy being with you and taking care of you and-"

"Go on, you deserve some time alone."

"I've given the guards instructions that if you try to leave, they're to stop you," she told him in warning.

"Turned my men against me, have you, little wife? I should have known their loyalty would lie with a beautiful woman rather than with me."

Sansa smiled. "Please don't let him get up," she said to Arya. Her sister nodded absently as she continued taking pieces of the game out of the box. "I won't be too long." She hesitated, standing in the doorway, wondering if Jaime could be trusted to stay in bed.

He looked over at her and smiled. "I promise, I won't move from this spot until you return…but I am not conceding weeks spent in this room." Sansa reluctantly took him at his word, disappearing into the bathing room.

"I'm glad you came back," she heard Arya say. "I would have missed you if you'd died."

"I'm glad to be back also," she heard Jaime say. "I would have regretted being unable to complete your training."

Sansa smiled, leaving the door open so she could hear their chatter as Jaime explained the game to her and they began to play, though it soon sounded as if they had been distracted from the game and Jaime was using the map to tell Arya about some of the battles during the Greyjoy Rebellion. Listening to them talking, even if she couldn't make out everything that was said, reassured her that Jaime was behaving and following the Maester's instructions. At least for one afternoon.

Sansa sighed to herself as she sunk into the hot water and closed her eyes. _It's going to be a long three weeks waiting for Jaime to heal enough to leave our bed._

…

"…The great pyramid of…g...g…"

"Ghis."

"…Ghis."

Sansa looked up from her sewing and smiled at the sight of Jaime seated on their bed, with Tommen beside him, sitting as close as he could possibly be to Jaime without actually sitting in his lap. They were reading a book together, as they had done nearly every afternoon for the past two weeks. Sansa had encouraged Jaime to allow the child to sit and read with him, since it benefited Tommen to spend time with Jaime and to practice his reading. And, best of all, it kept Jaime sitting in one place for a time. Sansa found that she took great pleasure in watching the two golden lions together, enjoying one another's company.

She had thought it so sad how uneasy they were with one another when Tommen first came to King's Landing. Then, when Tommen grew to be comfortable at Casterly Rock, and with them, she saw how much he wanted Jaime's attention and love, but her husband seemed unable to give it to the boy. It warmed her heart to see that Jaime had developed some small affection for the child. She'd noticed that when he returned from battle, Jaime was much more willing to give Tommen his time and attention. He and Tommen had grown closer during Jaime's recovery.

"Uncle Jaime? I'm glad Margaery brought me to live here with you and Sansa."

Sansa's eyes flicked to Jaime, watching his reaction. "We like having you here as well, Tommen."

He smiled and leaned his head against Jaime. "Are you and Sansa my parents now?" Jaime's eyes met Sansa's then and she could see the mix of emotions in his gaze. She knew that a part of him still loved Cersei. She was his twin sister. And the mother of his children. Sansa knew that Cersei was part of Jaime, even if he would never voice it aloud to her. She suspected that he felt guilty that Sansa had taken her place raising Tommen, though he had never discouraged her or said anything.

"I miss father and mother," Tommen said quietly, "but they're gone and…I like being taken care of by you and Sansa, Uncle. I love you both," he whispered.

"Your mother and your…your parents both loved you, Tommen. Though they may not have known how to show it very well."

"I know. But now that they're gone, can't you and Sansa be my parents?" She heard Tommen's voice waver as he expected Jaime to reject his request.

Sansa saw that Jaime was having a difficult time with this conversation. Part of her wanted to rescue him, but she also wanted to hear what he said to Tommen. He needed to learn how to talk to his son. "Sansa and I will always take care of you, and love you. It…it doesn't matter what name you call someone by. What matters is how you feel about them. Even if you don't call us mother and father, Sansa and I will take care of you and love you and make certain you are safe and happy." Tommen smiled, seeming to understand what Jaime was telling him.

"Tommen?" Sansa said, putting down her sewing and rising to her feet. "I think it's time for Jaime to rest. Though he may not agree," she said, smiling at her husband. "Go find Pia and she'll make you a snack?"

Tommen nodded and scurried from the room. She watched as Jaime slowly got up from the bed, grimacing as he rose to his full height. "Jaime, please be careful."

"Maester Merwyn said I could walk around."

"A little. He said you could walk around our chamber a little. And with my help," she said in exasperation, taking his arm and leading him to the chair beside hers. "You're as bad as a child sometimes, Jaime." He continued to push himself beyond his limits, and she tried to be vigilant, watching him and making certain that he wasn't harming himself. But he was far too stubborn for his own good and had gotten out of bed when her back was turned countless times over the past weeks. Each time she'd found him cringing in pain and ushered him back to bed.

"I'm far sturdier than all of you think," he said with a wry smile as he lowered himself into the chair beside her and she resumed her seat. He studied her for a moment, and Sansa could see that there was something on his mind. She waited, wondering what he wanted to say. "I've been thinking…about Tommen."

"What about him? You seem to enjoy the time he spends with you. And, I think you handled that conversation with him rather well."

"It's – I was thinking that…perhaps you were right. Perhaps I should tell him the truth. About who his father is. I was thinking he deserves to know where he comes from." Jaime looked down at his hand and she could see that he was uncertain about suggesting this to her.

"You wish to claim him as your son? To legitimize him?" she asked gently.

"No. It would be treason…it would risk all of our lives. But…"

"But you'd like him to know?"

Jaime nodded. "I think he has a right to know. I mean…I won't tell him if you don't want me to. Though…I don't know how to find the words to tell him the truth."

Sansa rose from her seat and settled on the arm of his chair, wrapping her arms around him and resting her head on top of his. "Of course I don't object," she whispered. "I love him, just as I love Julianna. He said he wishes that we were his parents but…Jaime, we _are_ his parents. I certainly think of him as my child…It's entirely your decision, if you wish to tell him the truth. It's your secret to tell, not mine."

She kissed his temple, still holding him. "What made you change your mind?"

He chuckled bitterly. "Gendry. I was speaking to him about my suspicions regarding his parentage and…I realized that everyone deserves to know where they came from." He sighed and Sansa rubbed his shoulder. "How do you think he'll react?" He looked at her and she could see that he was fearful. "He says he wishes we were his parents but…I don't know that he truly means it. Perhaps…perhaps it was a foolish idea. He's happy as things are."

She felt for Jaime as he talked himself out of telling Tommen the truth of his parentage, but she wasn't going to push him. She knew that Jaime would tell Tommen the truth when he was ready. "He loves you, Jaime. And…I see how much he wants you to love him. He so wants to be like you."

"Heavens help us."

Sansa kissed the top of his head. "You're not so bad. Though you do infuriate me."

He tilted his head up to look at her and smiled, kissing her fully on the mouth. Sansa closed her eyes in pleasure as Jaime kissed her. "I've missed this…you've denied me my rights to your body for far too long," he murmured, trying to pull her onto his lap. Sansa gripped the edge of the chair, remaining on firmly positioned on the arm.

"Not yet." She smiled, moving her mouth to his neck and trailed soft kisses down his neck. He sighed in pleasure when she began to suck on his neck, marking him as hers. She felt his hand trailing over her thigh, massaging her leg and she moved her mouth just behind his ear.

"Sansa…making love to you always makes me feel good," he murmured, again trying to pull her onto his lap.

She giggled, shaking her head and moved back to his mouth, kissing him again before resting her forehead against his. "You still need to heal more. I don't want to hurt you," she whispered against his lips. "Just try to behave for a little longer, Jaime. Then I'll welcome you home properly."

….

_I can't thank all of you enough for reading and for the more than 900 reviews! This chapter was kind of the calm before the storm and the action will begin to pick up again in the next one._

_Next chapter: Jaime's proper welcome from Sansa (yes, the smut some of you are requesting) and a raven arrives from King's Landing_


	72. Chapter 72

_Adult content ahead, as promised :)_

Chapter 72

...

Sansa placed a large basin of hot water on the bedside table and looked at Jaime suspiciously. She'd forced him to keep to their room – and their bed – for the past three weeks. He had tried arguing, flattery, and sneaking out when her back was turned, but Sansa had not relented. She had done all she could to make him comfortable, but he still complained. She knew it would not be long before he became more aggressive in his attempts to leave their chamber and care for himself.

Which was why she was surprised when he asked if he could trouble her to help him bathe. Each time she had helped him before, he had insisted that he was "not an invalid" and was "perfectly capable" of bathing himself, suggesting instead that she bathe Julianna.

Jaime had been quite irritable the past few days. She knew that the bed rest and confinement to their chamber was getting to him. She had not yet told him, but after Maester Merwyn removed his stitches the day before, he'd told her that Jaime could begin to resume his normal activities. She'd kept it from Jaime because she still felt that he should rest for a few more days. While his injury might be healing, she still noticed that he tired easily and she expected it was because he had lost so much blood and pushed himself so hard on the journey back to the Rock.

Sansa slid the tunic from his shoulders and dropped it on the ground beside the bed. She used her small sewing scissors to cut the bandages around his torso and felt relief that the large gash was no longer an angry red and appeared to have healed almost completely. She reached toward the sponge, but stopped at the sound of his voice. "I do have another wound," he said, gesturing toward his thigh. "Shouldn't you remove these as well?" he asked, nodding at his pants.

"You act as if you are paralyzed," she said, wondering why he was so eager for her to take care of him today. He never willingly accepted help with such simple tasks as undressing.

"You are the one who tells me not to over-exert myself," he said, with a smile as he sat there, looking at her expectantly.

She shook her head in dismay and unlaced the loose sleeping pants he was wearing and slowly slid them down his legs, dropping them on the floor beside his tunic. He was watching her intently, and she was startled to see the intense desire in his eyes. He was staring at her hungrily, as if she were naked before him. Sansa suddenly felt uncomfortable with his nudity, just as she had felt the first time she saw him naked. He was looking at her almost as if he were about to pounce on her and she wasn't sure where to put her eyes. She casually draped a towel across his middle as she began cutting away the dressing on his thigh.

She groaned inwardly as he began to laugh at her covering him up. "You've seen me naked more times than I can count," he murmured, the amusement apparent in his voice. "Surely the sight of my cock doesn't embarrass you, still."

"No," she said in annoyance. "But I don't normally…just stare at it."

"That's not what I've noticed, Sansa. I've seen you studying my…manhood, as you say, quite intently…with your eyes…your hands…your mouth…"

She ignored him and reached for the sponge floating in the basin. She squeezed the hot water from it and began slowly washing his arms and chest. He leaned forward and kissed her. Her hand stilled as his mouth moved over hers. She rested one hand on the back of his neck and threaded her fingers through his hair. She felt his tongue seeking admittance and opened her mouth, moaning softly as he explored her mouth. _I have missed this...missed him._

He broke their kiss and leaned back against the pillows and watching her. She met his eyes and colored, knowing that he was thinking about making love to her. She looked back down, focusing on what she was doing. _I can't believe he's using a sponge-bath to try to seduce me. _She leaned over him to examine the healed slash across his thigh, tracing her finger over the scar. She stopped as she felt him unlacing the back of her gown.

"Jaime," she said in warning as she pulled back, her gown sliding from her shoulders. _He's certainly gotten good at doing that with one hand._

"I thought you'd be more comfortable in your shift. You wouldn't want to get soapy water all over your lovely gown, would you?" His face was the picture of innocence, but she knew that he had more wanton thoughts in his head than concern about her gown.

"I thought you were too weak to untie your own laces. Yet you have me half out of my gown?" she asked, pointedly

"I rallied my strength to assist you," he said with a seductive smile and a gleam in his eyes. _Perhaps he is recovered,_ she thought. She had helped him bathe many times since he'd returned from battle, and he'd never taken it sexually before, as he clearly did now. "Lock the door, sweet girl…we've received far too many visitors to our bedchamber of late. For the sake of my modesty?"

Sansa rose to her feet, shaking her head. "You've not an ounce of modesty, Jaime." She bolted the door and resumed her seat next to him, pulling her gown back up over her shoulder.

"Take your gown off," he purred, removing the towel she had draped over his middle and dropping it on the floor. He leaned back against the pillows, naked as his nameday and stared into her eyes. She looked him over and saw that he was already hardening with arousal.

"Jaime, you're not well enough to…make love. You haven't completely regained your strength."

He sighed heavily. "If you won't allow me to fuck you just yet, at least let me look at you."

"You need to rest," she said, scowling at his choice of words as she sat on the edge of the bed and tried to resume bathing him.

Jaime smirked at her. "My heart rate could stand to be raised a bit. It would do me good." He pulled at her gown again, exposing her shoulders. "Come, sweet girl, take this off." She could tell that he was deliberately making his voice low, trying to seduce her. She did miss their physical intimacy. Every night since he'd awoken from his fever, Sansa had cuddled next to him in bed, and shared many kisses with him, but they had not made love, due to her fear of injuring him.

Now, as she decided what to do, she realized that he had her gown off her shoulders and pooled around her waist already, so she gave in and took it off, sitting beside him wearing only her shift. _I don't sleep in much more. There's nothing…too wrong with this._

She resumed bathing his chest, careful to be gentle as she cleaned his scars. He was rubbing his hand up and down her arm and she did her best to ignore him. "You're so beautiful…thinking of you got me through the three days ride back here." She looked up at his face then. "To escape the pain I…went away and thought about you."

"What about me?" He'd told her before, but she liked hearing him say how thoughts of her had taken away his pain.

"Your sweet smile, the way you look at me…though what worked most," he said, leaning towards her, "Was thinking about making love to you…what it feels like to be inside you," His smile broadened and she knew she was blushing. "Did you miss having me in your bed?" he purred, sliding the strap of her shift down and kissing her bare shoulder.

"I see you're feeling better," she managed to whisper, feeling her body heat at the feel of his mouth on her skin, while his arousal was so apparent.

"Did you miss me?"

"I missed everything about you, Jaime." He closed the short distance between them, covering her mouth with his own. They'd kissed countless times since he returned from battle, but not as passionately as this. There was no mistaking his intentions as his tongue entered her mouth and his hand found her breast, slipping inside her shift. She lost herself in what he was doing to her for a moment before she remembered herself.

"Jaime…you're not up to this."

She was startled when he placed her hand on his manhood, which was hard in her palm. "As you see, I'm quite up to the task," he whispered, kissing her again and chuckling as she pulled her hand away.

"Jaime, you need to heal. I don't...you're still weak." Even to her own ears, her protests were unconvincing. He had moved his mouth to her neck, kissing and sucking as he spoke softly in her ear. "I'll have you know that I spoke to the Maester this morning, while you were tending to Julianna…he said some exercise would be good for me."

She moaned despite herself at the feel of Jaime rolling her nipple between his fingers. She knew she should stop him, but she found it difficult to get away from him, as his arm was wrapped around her waist, holding her still. _He has regained quite a lot of his strength. _Though, if she was honest with herself – she didn't want to stop him. She so loved kissing him and being close to him. Sansa began moving her mouth over his chest, kissing his skin as he began to breathe heavily. She slid her hand over the planes of his chest and stomach, finally closing it around his hardness and gently stroking him. Jaime groaned in pleasure and covered her hand with his own, increasing her speed and pressure, no doubt believing she was being too gentle. She still worried that he was overexerting himself, but there was such pleasure in his eyes, she couldn't bring herself to stop. She felt him pulling her on top of him and pressed her hand against his chest. "Jaime, no…I'm going to hurt you."

He chuckled. "I am feeling no pain right now." He nuzzled his nose against her, trailing kisses over her neck. "Maester Merwyn said this was fine…don't worry."

"He could not have meant," she looked at him and saw the gleam in his eye. "You asked him if we could…" She saw the confirmation in his eyes and her mouth dropped open in embarrassment. "How can I face him?"

Jaime chuckled against her neck. "We have a child…he's well aware that we've had sex...though he may not know quite how often."

She huffed and looked him over, noting the location of his wounds as she felt his hand reaching beneath her shift and trying to pull down her smallclothes. "I suppose he does." His eyes darkened with desire and triumph that she was giving in. He watched her carefully, his gaze increasingly heated, as she helped him remove her smallclothes completely. "You'll lie still?"

He quickly nodded. _He'll agree to anything right now, so long as we make love._ She carefully straddled his lap, leaning over to grab both of her pillows, piling them behind Jaime, in addition to the ones that were already there. _This isn't wanton…I'm taking away his pain. I'm comforting my husband_. She rested her hands on either side of his face, enjoying the feel of his beard beneath her fingers.

"I love you," she whispered, kissing him again. Jaime had told her she could shave away his beard, but she found she rather liked it. It made him look more like a Northerner.

She felt him thrusting upward, brushing against her and she broke the kiss, shaking her head. "Lie still." She could see it was an effort for him to stop and let her do the work. He started pushing her shift up and Sansa smiled as she pulled it over her head and tossed it aside. She noted his shallow breathing as his eyes and hand roamed over her body. _I suppose it has been quite a while since he's seen me naked like this._ Sansa had insisted on sleeping in her shift since his return, not trusting Jaime to keep his hands to himself while she slept.

She felt his hardness against her thigh as he touched her breasts. Sansa closed her eyes in pleasure as he touched and kissed her. When she couldn't wait any longer - and knew he could not - she reached between them and took him in her hand, smiling at his gasp of pleasure when she brushed her thumb over the tip of him. She slowly lowered herself onto his manhood, both of them moaning at the feeling. She leaned forward and kissed him as she moved over him, reaching past him to grip the headboard, using it as leverage, so she was the one exerting herself. His head rolled back against the pillows and he began moaning her name in pleasure, his hand resting on her hip, fingers splayed over her bottom.

Sansa arched her back and closed her eyes as she raised and lowered herself up and down his manhood. She sighed his name when she felt his mouth cover her nipple and begin to suckle. He began to instinctively thrust up against her and she tilted her head up and met his eyes. "No. Lie. Still. Or we stop."

He smirked and reached for her, pulling her face down to his and kissing her brutally. "You needn't be so gentle…not after how long it's been since I've had you. Not when you spent weeks thinking we might never again be together like this." She had never voiced it aloud, but it seemed he knew how afraid she was when he was gone. "You deserve some pleasure as well," he murmured, kissing her again.

He wrapped his arm around her, the golden hand pressing into her bottom as he began stroking her pleasure spot. Sansa forgot herself, releasing the headboard and wrapping her arms around Jaime's neck as she peaked.

He took advantage of her distraction and before she could protest, he had her on her back and was thrusting into her, his face buried against her neck. She had her hands on his shoulders and slid one up, stroking the back of his head. Jaime moved to kiss her, gazing into her eyes, a smirk firmly fixed on his face.

"Jaime….I told you to lie still."

He groaned as he thrust into her. "That was worse torture than any pain this causes," he murmured, kissing her again. He continued thrusting into her, his actions growing faster and more erratic as he got closer to peaking. She gently stroked his face, seeing that he was close to his release. Any reservations she had were gone, as she watched the pleasure wash over his face when he stilled inside her, his seed spilling into her as he moaned that he loved her. She leaned up to kiss him.

"I love you too, Jaime." He rolled onto his back, wincing slightly at the pain in his leg. Sansa gave him a look. "I told you-"

"That's the reunion I was expecting," he said, a self-satisfied grin on his face, despite his pain. "Come here," he said, beckoning her over. Sansa crept towards him, resting her head on his chest as he wrapped his arm around her.

"You shouldn't wear yourself out like that, Jaime. You nearly died."

He chuckled, running his hand over her bare skin. "That is exactly how I should wear myself out. It was well worth it. For you as well, I believe. You're the one who wants me to stay in bed. That's certainly one way to keep me here. I'd agree to stay here for another week, so long as you join me once or…twice a day for some…exercise."

She shook her head at his wantonness, and softly kissed his chest. "You should sleep now, Jaime, so you don't relapse."

He nodded, closing his eyes. "I will, as long as you lie here with me."

Sansa closed her eyes, listening to Jaime's heartbeat and his breathing, feeling it get even as sleep claimed him. She slipped from his arms, once she was certain that he was asleep, smiling at the peaceful expression on his face. She gently stroked his hair and kissed him softly. "I love you," she whispered, covering him with a fur before putting on a dressing gown and resuming her seat by the fire, working on her sewing while he slept. Despite his bravado, it was clear that Jaime had exhausted himself, since he slept for the rest of the day.

…

Jaime was relieved when Sansa finally relented and agreed that he was quite recovered and no longer insisted that he remain confined to their bedchamber. Though, as he sat at the desk in his solar and read the hastily scrawled message from King's Landing, a part of him wished that he could remain hidden away with Sansa, and not have to face the world.

_Nephew,_

_As I write, King's Landing is under siege by Daenerys Targaryen. Our scouts report that she commands an army of 20,000. The Nightswatch travels with her, though it's unclear if they are fighting on her behalf, or merely pursuing the White Walkers. You may be skeptical, but my scouts have seen that she has three dragons with her, burning all that try to stop her. _

_I beg you, Jaime, to flee Westeros as I am. Take your wife and daughter and go to the Free Cities. If the Dragon Queen, as she calls herself, conquers King's Landing, she will certainly want your head before long._

_Your Uncle,  
Ser Kevan Lannister_

Jaime looked up at Ser Addam, astonished that his uncle also reported that the Targaryen girl possessed dragons. Kevan Lannister was never one for tall tales. And after his encounter with the White Walkers, Jaime was reluctant to dismiss the reports of dragons as fantasy, though he wondered how, after so many years, dragons could be walking the earth again.

"What do you wish to do?"

Jaime met Ser Addam's eyes as he placed the letter on his desk. "Are you asking if I plan to flee the Realm?"

"Do you not think that it's a good idea?"

"The Rock is impenetrable. It's never been breached."

"Dragonfire is not the same as an enemy army. It is a different matter altogether. You've seen Harrenhal. I doubt the Rock could withstand dragonfire without burning to the ground. Ser Kevan is right." Jaime looked at him in question. "She will want your head. For killing her father, the Mad King. You won't consider leaving? If not for yourself, for Lady Sansa and the child?"

"I'll not run off like some craven in the night. The Red Keep will not fall so easily. And if it should…I'll consider again the wisdom of staying here. But not now."

Ser Addam nodded and left Jaime to his solitude. He knew that his friend believed he was making a mistake, but it wasn't so easy to simply abandon Casterly Rock to the Targaryens. The Rock was his home. It was the one place he had ever been truly happy. It was the first and last place that he was part of a family. He thought of how Sansa longed to see her Winterfell again, and imagined he would feel a similar longing were he driven from his own childhood home.

_The Red Keep may not fall. If it does…then I'll consider leaving. I already allowed one Targaryen to change the course of my life. I'll not allow another to do so, if I can help it._

_..._

_As always, thank you for the reviews. I appreciate every single one that the story receives. _

_Next chapter: the Battle for King's Landing is decided_


	73. Chapter 73

Chapter 73

"Jaime?"

"Hmm?" he murmured absently, for he was quite engrossed in nuzzling against Sansa's bare breasts and softly kissing them every now and again, as they lay naked in each other's arms. They'd spent the past few hours in bed together and Jaime felt completely relaxed. She no longer worried that he was exhausting himself when fulfilling his duties in the bedchamber, and Jaime had made up for lost time.

"Have…Have you ever thought of living somewhere besides Westeros?" she asked casually, running her fingers through his hair.

Jaime reluctantly abandoned his current endeavor and sat up against the headboard. She immediately cuddled against his chest and he wrapped his arms around her. "Why do you ask me that?" He had an idea, though he feigned ignorance. He'd kept Ser Kevan's letter to himself for a few days, but he'd broken down and told Sansa at dinner about the Targaryen girl attacking King's Landing and he saw the fear in Sansa's eyes. He hadn't wished to frighten her, but he wanted her to be prepared, should the capitol fall.

"Jaime…I'm tired of war and people who want to hurt us. I want…peace. I just want to be with you." He smiled and kissed her forehead. "When I was a little girl, I read a book about the Free Cities and for a week Jeyne Pool and I pretended we were in Lys and we curled and perfumed our hair…I'd never seen the ocean before and it sounded so beautiful." She was in his arms, gazing up at him, her eyes bright with adventure. Listening to her speak, he imagined this was how she was as a young girl who still believed in beauty and magic…before his family got a hold of her.

"Sansa…I'm shocked that a lady such as yourself would long for the pleasure houses and love goddesses of Lys. What would your mother think?" he asked in a whisper.

She rolled her eyes. "I didn't want to see the brothels…but the love goddesses might be nice," she said with a smile. "It seemed so magical to pretend to be somewhere else, where it was always warm and…it seemed so romantic." She smiled, looking down at her fingers trailing over his chest. "Of course, it was always far too cold in the North for us to dress as if we lived in Lys."

He chuckled. "Feel free to wear as little as you like here in our bedchamber." His eyes raked over her. "I think you're perfect as you are…naked, wearing nothing but a ruby necklace…your face flushed with passion…tousled curls in your hair. Perhaps we should go to the Free Cities if this is how you'll be…"

She pushed his shoulder playfully. "My point is…we don't have to stay in Westeros…we could raise Tommen and Julianna in the Free Cities. We could be so happy there. Winter never comes there, so it would always be warm and sunny."

"Aren't you happy here?"

"I am but…perhaps it's not safe to stay here now. Jaime, I don't care about being lady of a great castle. I don't care whether or not Tommen is king. I don't care who sits on the iron throne. I just want us to be together…as a family. That's all that matters. In the Free Cities, we could be just that. We could be free to love one another and raise our family. No one could ever hurt us or separate us. We would have everything that we needed, because we would be together."

_How could she know? _He looked at his little wife in wonder and didn't understand how she could know the words he'd said to Cersei so many times over the years, when he could not take the secrecy and knowing that he shared her with Robert Baratheon. Now Sansa was saying the words he had always longed to hear. She was choosing him over everything.

"Have you never thought of leaving Westeros, Jaime?"

Jaime smiled sadly as she rested her hand on his cheek. He held her tighter, lifting her onto his lap. "I used to think about it every day. While I was serving King Robert. I asked Cersei a million times to leave the Realm with me and…and the children. So we could be together…She never would. She would never leave the Iron Throne. She would never choose me over…power." He looked at Sansa, knowing she would give up everything just to be with him.

"If we left here, Tommen could know that you're his father," she whispered.

Jaime smiled sadly and leaned down to kiss her. "You'd leave your family? After fighting so long to be reunited with them?"

"They could come with us," she said hopefully.

Jaime chuckled. "I don't believe your lady mother would be interested in living with me for the rest of her life."

"But if it's not safe for us here –"

"Sansa," he whispered. "Please don't be scared. We're safe here right now. There's no need for us to go into exile."

"What if Kings Landing falls? I don't want anyone to hurt you or take you away from me. I couldn't bear it," she whispered, tears filling her eyes.

Jaime kissed the top of her head and rubbed his hand up and down her arm. He still marveled over how much his sweet little wife loved him and wanted to be with him. After all she had been through at the hands of his family, she still had hope and a goodness inside her. _I can't allow her to suffer anymore. _"If the capitol falls, we'll talk again about what we should do. I promise."

She nodded, resting her head against his chest again, though he knew she was not entirely satisfied. He supposed he wasn't either. Jaime had little doubt that he and Sansa could be happy anywhere, so long as they were together. Certainly they could find happiness in the Free Cities. And he certainly had enough gold to allow them start over again and never want for anything. _If it comes to it…I'll take her, Julianna and Tommen…and we'll leave._

…

Sansa sat curled up on the sofa in Jaime's solar, watching him with Julianna, who was resting securely in his arms. She was staring up at him with her bright green eyes, a little smile on her face. Sansa glanced down at Tommen, who was lying on the rug in front of them, playing with his kittens. _We really have become a family._ She had not thought it possible, that they would be so happy, when she and Jaime were first married. She supposed that was why she was terrified of losing him.

For the past two weeks, she had been able to think of little else but what Jaime had told her about the Targaryens reappearing in Westeros and attacking King's Landing. Sansa was not so foolish that she didn't realize that the Lannisters were enemies to the Targaryens. Jaime in particular, since he'd killed the Mad King. She supposed the Starks were considered enemies to the Targaryens as well, since they had supported King Robert during the rebellion. She wished that Jaime would leave Westeros with her, and flee to the Free Cities. Sansa had not been surprised that he wished to stay at the Rock – it was not in his character to run away from a fight – but she was terrified that something would happen to him.

She moved closer to Jaime, resting her head on his shoulder and rubbing the babe's back, as she returned Julianna's smile. _She's so happy. I don't ever want her to know anything but this happiness…and the safety of her father's arms. _"I can hardly believe we've had her for a year," Sansa said softly. "It seems like only a few months ago that she was born. I'll never forget the sight of you holding her for the first time…and bringing her to me. Our perfect little girl."

He leaned over and kissed Julianna's forehead and she began babbling, as if she knew they were speaking about her. "The day she was born…changed my life forever. The moment I held her, I knew she belonged to me and that I would love her forever. Just like you," he whispered to Sansa, kissing her softly.

"Perhaps…we could have another?" Sansa asked shyly.

Jaime gripped her chin in his hand and held her still so he could kiss her. "I look forward to trying," he whispered, a smile on his face. "I think we should work on it all night…and perhaps all day tomorrow."

"Jaime," she said in warning, nodding toward Tommen.

He smirked at her and shook his head, no doubt amused at her concerns about propriety. "She certainly enjoyed her nameday," he murmured, turning his attention back to the babe cuddled up in his arms. Arya's little friend, Hot Pie, had made lemoncakes, and they had allowed Julianna to have her first one, in celebration of her nameday. She'd ripped it to pieces with her bare hands before gobbling the entire thing down in seconds. "Judging by the way she tore into that cake, I fear she may not be as ladylike as her mother…though she certainly shares your fondness for lemoncakes."

"She's only a baby…she'll learn to be a proper lady. Assuming you and Arya don't corrupt her."

"Uncle Jaime, do you remember when I was born?" Tommen asked from his place on the floor, no doubt having heard she and Jaime talking about Julianna. "Mother never talked about it. She always talked about when Joffrey was born…and that it was the happiest day of her life."

Sansa watched as Jaime considered what he was going to say. "I was there when you were born, Tommen," he said quietly.

"Were you waiting outside with Father?"

Jaime shook his head. "No. I was in the birthing chamber with your mother. I heard your first cries and saw you the moment you were placed in your mother's arms."

Tommen got up and climbed onto the sofa, squeezing between them, his eyes on Jaime. "Why were you there and not father?"

"The King…he would always go on a hunting trip when your mother was due to have a babe. That was his…way. And Cersei was afraid to be alone in the birthing chamber, so I would be there with her. I was there when all of you were born." He looked hesitantly at Sansa, and she knew Jaime was worried that he would upset her by speaking of this. She smiled encouragingly, wrapping her arms around Tommen and pulled him against her, trying to show Jaime that it was all right to speak to his son in this manner.

"Cersei…she didn't labor with you for very long. Not like with Joffrey." He smiled at Tommen. "Your birth was easy, as you have been your entire life. You've never giving anyone any trouble. Once you were born, and your cries filled the air, you were wrapped up and placed in your mother's arms. She remarked that you had the same green eyes that…she and I have."

"Did you hold me, like Julianna?"

"No…your mother wanted you all to herself, once she finally got to meet you." He met Sansa's eyes – they both knew he was lying about the reason he never held Tommen when he was a babe. Sansa felt for Jaime in that moment and understood why he was hesitant to tell Tommen that he was his father. The boy would see that Jaime felt so differently about Julianna – that he was much more open and affectionate with her. Julianna was his baby and Tommen had never been that. "Tommen…I…your mother and I were twins, you know." The boy nodded. "I was with her when all of you were born because I loved her and…" She could see that he was trying to find the words to tell Tommen the truth, but he wasn't able to, instead telling the child to get ready for bed.

Once Tommen left them alone, Sansa moved next to Jaime once again, careful not to disturb Julianna whose eyes were drooping as she drifted off to sleep. "You'll tell him when you're ready."

Jaime nodded, looking away from her. "He's happy here with us…he and I finally have…some relationship. I don't wish to destroy that." He sighed. "I'll wager you never thought your husband so cowardly that he would fear a nine year old boy."

"I don't think you're a coward, Jaime. I could never think that about you. It's…it's just not the right time."

"Will there ever be a right time?" he asked sadly.

Sansa nodded, kissing his cheek. "Yes, Jaime. There will. You'll know when it's the right time." He held out his arm for her, and she went to him. She carefully moved Julianna to her own lap, and the babe clutched her tightly, nuzzling her head against her mother's breasts as she tried to sleep. Sansa looked up at Jaime and kissed him, holding him as he buried his face against her neck.

…

"King's Landing has fallen. The Targaryen girl sits on the Iron Throne."

Sansa almost felt her heart stop at Ser Addam's words, and his grave tone of voice, though Jaime did not seem wholly surprised. She watched as he read through the reports from various scouts and citizens loyal to House Lannister. _We have to leave Westeros. I can't allow Jaime to be imprisoned…or worse._

"What's this about Tyrion?" Jaime asked, skimming over one of the many messages.

"He rides with her, as an advisor. Along with Ser Barriston Selmy, Jorah Mormont…and Peter Baylish. As well as the Night's Watch and thousands of Unsullied."

"She has an army of slaves then? Fitting for a Targaryen, I suppose." Jaime thought about the men who traveled with her. "How did they all manage to find her?" Jaime asked, more to himself. "I expect she'll want to give Casterly Rock to Tyrion."

"What do you mean?" Sansa asked, stricken. "The Rock is yours."

"You know Tyrion has little affection for me right now. He'll no doubt want our childhood home for himself. Nothing would cause my father to turn over in his grave more than that. I expect that would please my brother."

"So you think…you think she will attack us?"

Jaime took her hand, trying to comfort her, though he had no comforting words to offer her. "Eventually. Yes. They will lay siege to Casterly Rock. Perhaps she'll merely summon us to the capitol. And attack when we don't appear."

"Shouldn't we go and try to make peace-"

"She'll make no peace with me."

Ser Addam held one last parchment in his hand, and seemed hesitant to hand it over. "What is it?" Jaime asked, nodding to the last missive his friend held.

"Shortly after her victory…_King Tommen_ was marched through the city – to the Great Sept of Baelor – where he was burned alive by a large black dragon, on orders from the Queen. She stood there beside her dragon, watching and listening as the child burned and screamed."

"That can't be right," Sansa said, looking between the two men. "Tommen's here."

Jaime angrily took the letter from Addam's hand. "Lord Tyrell must have found a boy to pass off as the King once his daughter took him from the City. He would have needed a way to maintain his hold on the Iron Throne. He wouldn't be able to rule with the King no longer in the capitol. With him missing. I expect Tommen's whipping boy took the final punishment for his king."

Sansa was horrified at the thought of such brutality against a child – to be burned alive by dragonfire. "Why would she…burn him alive? He's just a little boy. He never did anything to her." The thought of that happening to Tommen brought tears to her eyes.

"Because he was sitting on her throne. Because she's just as mad and cruel as her father," Jaime spit out as he rose to pour a glass of wine. "Surely you've heard the saying – when a Targaryen is born, the gods flip a coin to decide if they'll be great or they'll be mad." Jaime took the letter from Ser Addam, who bowed as he took his leave. Once they were alone, Jaime sat opposite Sansa and turned to her with a bitter smile. "If the Mad Queen would burn a child…I expect she'd do the same, if not worse, to me, given the chance. Certainly the Kingslayer deserves a public burning."

Sansa shook her head, not wanting to hear such words. "No. You saved everyone – you saved the Realm from being burned. Jaime, you had no choice. You had to kill the king. If she knew why –"

"She won't care. No matter what the Mad King did, she won't ever see that he had to die. And she certainly won't allow the man who killed him to live. Targaryans are a prideful lot. She'll certainly wish to avenge her father's murder. If for no other reason than to send a message to anyone who might get it in their mind to do the same to her."

"We can still leave, Jaime. Go to the free cities. Please." She could see that he was considering her request and hurriedly pressed on before he changed his mind. "We would be happy there, Jaime, I know it. Far from this game of thrones. Far from the Realm." Sansa moved closer to him, kneeling before him, resting her hands on his knees. "No one in the Free Cities would care what house we're from, or what we did in the past. We could raise our children…it would be warm and…"

"Calm down, Sansa," he said, taking her in his arms, no doubt sensing her panic. "It's all right." She was shaking from the effort to keep from crying. Jaime must have noticed, and began stroking her hair. "Perhaps…It might be best for Julianna if we left to the Free Cities."

"Do you mean it?" She studied his eyes, not yet daring to believe that he spoke the truth. "We can really leave?"

He nodded, leaning forward and kissing her. "I have more to think of than just myself. I won't risk you…or Julianna. I'd give up anything, so long as you're safe."

"Should we leave now?" They couldn't leave soon enough, as far as Sansa was concerned. "When will they arrive here?"

"I'd expect that she would establish her presence in the capitol, set up a council of advisors, before sending men further south…to conquer the rest of the Realm…and bring her my head." Sansa shuddered at the thought. _If they take his head, they should just take mine, as well._ "We can begin preparations to leave now, and depart in a few days, at the next dawn. I'll send some men to purchase a ship from one of the merchants in Lannisport." He looked at her seriously. "You…you're prepared to say your goodbyes? To your family?"

"You won't allow them to come with us?"

"I would, if they wished, but…I expect they will wish to remain here. Edmure could likely be reinstated as Lord of Riverrun. Your mother and Arya would be safe there. Sansa," he began gently, "You must realize that your mother will not wish to stay under my roof any longer than necessary. If we leave Westeros…you'll have to leave her." She nodded, knowing he was right, though she wished they could all remain together. "I understand if you don't wish to leave them. We can stay and…try to fight-"

"No," she said immediately, taking his hand. "I would not risk your life. Not for anything. We must leave. I'll…I'll tell my mother and Arya in the morning." _Though I don't know how I will say goodbye to them, after how hard we fought to be together again._

"It may not be forever," Jaime whispered.

Sansa wrapped her arms around him, seeing that he worried she would blame him for taking her from her family. She rested her head on his shoulder, snuggling against him. "Perhaps not," she said quietly, wrapping her arms around him. "Even if it is…so long as you and I are together…I can bear it. As long as our little family – you and me…Tommen and Julianna are together – I can bear anything."

…

_Thank for reading and reviewing. The upcoming chapters definitely have more action rather than quiet moments…hope you enjoyed this chapter and what's to come._

_Next Chapter: Sansa tells Arya and Catelyn about their plans to leave Westeros_


	74. Chapter 74

Chapter 74

...

Sansa felt far more nervous than she had expected when she sat down to breakfast with Arya. She feared that her family would react badly to the news that she and Jaime were leaving Westeros. _They will know it's for the best once they understand that Jaime would be killed if we stayed here. However mother feels about Jaime, she would not want me to suffer as I would if something happened to him._

"Where's Jaime? Isn't he going to practice with me this morning?" Arya asked, piling food high onto her plate. It had always horrified Sansa to see how unladylike Arya was at table, but now it made her smile, knowing they would not see each other again for some time. If ever.

Jaime would not be joining them, as he normally did. He was beginning the preparations for their departure for the Free Cities. He had sent Ser Addam with several men to the Lannisport harbor to purchase a ship; and large amounts of gold were being brought up from the depths of Casterly Rock, so they would not want for anything during their exile.

"He had a few matters to take care of with Ser Addam this morning." Sansa saw her mother approaching the dining room. She had asked Pia to invite Lady Catelyn to join she and Arya for breakfast, so she could tell them both that she and Jaime were going to leave Westeros. Her mother always stayed away when Jaime was around. Though she was kind to Sansa and Julianna - and even Tommen - she still was not able to abide Jaime's presence because of what he did to Bran.

"Good morning, Mother," Arya said, taking a bite of her bread.

"Good morning, darling," she murmured, kissing Arya's head, and then also kissing Sansa's cheek. "Your handmaiden said that you wished me to join you this morning…your husband…?"

"He's with Ser Addam this morning," Sansa said. "Please, sit."

She immediately saw that her mother was uneasy – no doubt sensing Sansa's own discomfort. "All right. Is there...a particular reason why you wished me to join you this morning?" Lady Catelyn asked, pouring herself a cup of tea. "I sense you have something on your mind."

Sansa nodded. "We… Daneryus Targaryen – the Mad King's daughter – has returned to Westeros. She…she has a rather large army and…dragons. She defeated Stannis Baratheon in the North and…just conquered King's Landing and the Red Keep. She is calling herself the Dragon Queen." Sansa knew she was babbling, but her nerves were getting the better of her.

"She has dragons? Like Aegon the Conquerer?" Arya asked in excitement.

"Yes," Sansa said quietly, meeting her mother's eyes. "She will…She will likely send men to Casterly Rock. For Jaime." She whispered the last and saw that her mother understood what she was trying to say.

"Why would she want Jaime?" Arya asked.

"Because he killed her father. She…she had one of her dragons burn a little boy in the Capitol that she believed was Tommen."

She saw her mother close her eyes at the cruel act Sansa described. She wondered if her mother was thinking of how Brandon and Rickard Stark died. "When do you leave?" Lady Catelyn asked quietly.

"In a few days. At first light."

Her mother nodded, looking down at her hands.

"Are we going to Braavos?" Arya asked excitedly. "Then I could continue learning to be a water dancer."

"You're not going to the Free Cities, Arya. Only Jaime and Sansa and…the children. We'll remain in Westeros." It hurt Sansa to hear her mother say that they would not be together, but she had known in her heart that her mother would do no different.

"Why must we stay here?" Arya demanded. "I want to go with Jaime and Sansa."

"It's safer for you here, Arya," Sansa said, not wishing for this to be more difficult for her lady mother. "Jaime thinks that Riverrun might be returned to Uncle Edmure. You could live with him. And maybe, one day, return to Winterfell."

"I don't want to live at Riverrun. I want-"

"Arya, that's enough."

After her sister threw down her napkin and stormed off, Sansa looked back at her mother. "Jaime…he said to tell you to make certain that they know you were here as a hostage. That you hate and oppose the Lannisters. That you did not approve of our marriage. He said…you must bend the knee to the new Queen."

"Don't worry, Sansa. I…we'll all be fine."

"I'll try to write you…about how I'm doing and…about Julianna…" Sansa began to cry and heard her mother's chair scuff on the floor as she rose and took her in her arms. "I wish you would come with us. You and Arya. So we could all be together."

"I can't do that, Sansa. You know that." Sansa nodded, clinging to her mother. "I'll miss you very much, my love. I always knew we would be separated one day, when you married. I always knew that you would leave Winterfell – leave me – and live with your husband. Just as I did, when I married your father. I may not approve of your husband…but I know you'll be safe and that he'll protect you. Even if I never see you again, knowing you are safe and happy is all I need. It's enough that I no longer worry that you are being hurt."

"I'll miss you, Mother" Sansa said, hugging her tightly. Sansa had no doubts or regrets about leaving with Jaime, but she knew that she would miss her mother and Arya very much. _We'll be reunited one day. I have to believe that one day it will be safe for us to return to Westeros._

…

Arya stormed into Jaime's solar, just as his men were leaving. He saw determination in her eyes, and correctly guessed that Sansa had told her that they were leaving Westeros.

"I want to go with you," she announced, seating herself opposite him.

Jaime leaned back in his chair, looking at her across the large desk that had been Lord Tywin's. He could recall many conversations with his father as they sat across from one another, with only this desk between them. He imagined that Lord Tywin was a much more intimidating sight than Jaime was. "I know you want to come wiht us. But...Arya, you have to stay here."

"We're supposed to be a family. You said that we were a family now that you and Sansa are married. Families don't leave each other."

Jaime sighed. He wasn't good at this. He wasn't good at feelings. Nor was he good at being part of a real family. The Lannisters were never sentimental and Lord Tywin had never flinched at separating his children when it suited the needs of House Lannister. "I have to leave, Arya. You wouldn't wish for me to die, would you?"

"No."

"Nor would your sister. Nor would I, for that matter. We have to go. If Sansa and I stayed here, it would not be safe. This…dragon queen…she's the Mad King's daughter. She'll want revenge for her father's death. Just as you wanted revenge for your father's death."

"You don't have to stay here," she said quietly. "But, can't you take me with you? Please?"

"What about your mother? She's your family, too, and she would miss you very much. The both of you spent so long trying to find your way back to one another. You would just give that up?"

Arya looked down, uncertain how to respond. "Can't you make her leave, too?"

He shook his head. "You know she would not be happy. Arya, you know I'm right. I promise you, Sansa and I will both find a way to keep in touch with you. Maybe, someday, we could return. Or when you grow up, you could come see us."

Arya looked up at him and he saw tears in her eyes. "But…I'll miss my sister and…I'll miss you, too. Who's going to train me now? You were going to teach me to joust in the spring. Father and Robb are both dead…Who will protect us?" She said the last bit so quietly that Jaime barely heard her.

He rose to his feet and hesitantly sat down beside her. Sansa had told him that Arya had come to see him as an older brother, if not a father, but he had not really believed her. The little Stark girl was so hostile toward him when they met. But he saw now that Sansa was right. He gently rested his hand on her shoulder. "If you ever need me – really need me – I'll know. And I will do anything I can to help you. You're a very brave girl and I know that you will be well. I know that you will take care of your mother, so Sansa won't worry about her. We will see each other again, Arya. I feel certain of that."

Her tears began to fall as she nodded and hugged him fiercely. Jaime returned her embrace, rubbing her back as she cried. "I'm going to miss you as well, Arya. Very much."

…

That night, Sansa brought Tommen to their bedchamber, so they could tell him that they were leaving Westeros. He held her hand as they walked down the hall, and Sansa smiled at the sight that greeted them when they entered her bedchamber. Julianna was standing on the bed, bracing herself on Jaime's chest as she jumped up and down, laughing hysterically when he scooped her into his arms. Sansa noticed how tightly the babe held onto Jaime. She remembered how safe Sansa had felt in her father's arms when she was a little girl and was glad that her own daughter had that same security with Jaime. Little Julianna was a big part of why she and Jaime were leaving Westeros. _She needs her father. I won't let her lost his father as I lost mine.__  
_

"Go get on the bed so we can talk to you," Sansa told Tommen, following behind as they joined Jaime and Julianna in bed, cuddling under the furs. Tommen reached for the baby and she took his hands, walking into his arms and letting him hug her. Sansa smiled at Jaime over his head. _Tommen loves his baby sister so much._

"Tommen," Jaime began. "We wanted to tell you that we're going to leave Casterly Rock in a few days."

"Are we all going?" Sansa heard the fear in the boy's voice, and her heart broke, realizing he thought they were going to leave him behind as so many others had.

"Yes. We're all going," Sansa said quietly. "You, Julianna and Jaime and I are all going to be together."

"Why do we have to leave the Rock?"

Jaime looked at her, silently asking if they should tell him the truth. Sansa shook her head. She did not want Tommen to be afraid. "We are going on an adventure," she said. "We're going to the Free Cities. Have you ever wanted to go there? I know you read about some of the Free Cities in that book you were reading. _Wonders."_

Tommen nodded, a soft smile beginning to form on his face. "The Titan of Braavos is there."

"Well, maybe we can see it, if you like," Jaime said.

"Can I bring my kittens?" he asked, looking between the two of them.

"Of course, sweetling. You can bring anything from here with us that you like. Anything that will make you feel at home. Now, get some sleep, and dream about all of the places that you want to see when we go to the Free Cities. We'll leave in a few days." He nodded, hugging both of them and kissing Julianna, before running off to his own bedchamber.

"He took that well," Jaime commented, as Sansa took Julianna from him and carried her to her crib.

"He only cares about being with us. It doesn't matter where." Sansa smiled down at the babe and leaned over, kissing her softly. "Good night, sweet baby," she whispered before returning to Jaime in the bed. "When do you think they'll arrive? The Targaryen army?"

"Probably not for another moon or two. Once she has established her government, she'll likely turn her attention to her enemies. We should be well on our way to the Free Cities by then. It will take us two or three moons to get there, depending on the wind."

"I've never been on a ship," Sansa said tentatively.

"Well, I've bought us a fine one to travel in. Good thing it's rather large…there's room for us, the babe…for Tommen and his kittens." Jaime looked over at her and smiled. "All the gowns and jewels you've packed might sink anything smaller."

She blushed, looking down. "I didn't want to leave behind any of the things you've given me."

"I'm only teasing," he said with a smile. "Though I'm counting on buying you clothes that are more suitable for the warm weather of the Free Cities. From what I've heard, they will not take up much space in your wardrobe. Just a few strips of silk should do quite well."

She hit him lightly on the shoulder. "Where are we going? Are we traveling or will we have a home?"

"We'll have a home…somewhere for the children to grow up. Pia has agreed to come with us and…I know you'll be far from home. I will do everything I can for you, to ensure that you are happy and feel that you have a home."

Sansa crawled onto Jaime's lap, and kissed him, knowing that he was giving up his home as well. "You're my home," she whispered, trailing kisses over his shoulder and down his chest.

"Sansa," he whispered, gripping her waist. She sat up, smiling as she met his eyes. She held his gaze as her hands moved to the ties on the front of her gown. He watched silently as she slid her gown from her shoulders, leaving herself bare to his gaze.

"You're my home," she repeated, drawing him toward her and kissing him again before wrapping her arms around him and hugging him tight. She loved feeling his skin against hers, and his arms tight on her back as he held her. "Thank you…Thank you for leaving. I know you're doing it for me. For us."

Jaime eased her onto her back, climbing out from under the covers. She sighed at the feel of his nude body moving over hers and wrapped her legs around his waist as he kissed her neck and breasts. "I'd do anything to be with you," he murmured. "Anything."

…

"Your ship is docked in the harbor. Sansa's guards have agreed to accompany you, as well as several other men without families, who agreed to serve as guards, and to help man the ship. They have been trained by the shipmaster."

Jaime smiled. "Thank you, Addam. You've been one of my few true friends. Ever since we were children." Other than Cersei and Tyrion, Addam Marbrand was the person Jaime was closest to as a boy. And their friendship had continued for their entire lives. "Promise me something?"

"What?"

"When the Targaryen girl – the so-called Dragon Queen - arrives…bend the knee. Don't fight her. Don't resist the siege. Raise the white flag and bend the knee."

"Jaime, you can't be serious. You wish me to just…turn the Rock over to a Targaryen? Your father would-"

"Enough people have died in this war. I'd not wish you to die fighting a losing battle. Tyrion has always liked you. He'll likely keep you on as castellan until you inherit Ashmark. There's no purpose to resisting the siege. Tell the men it's what I wish – for them to serve Tyrion in my stead. He's a Lannister. Better him than a stranger…I would not wish you see you imprisoned or killed by dragonfire for so foolish a reason."

Addam nodded, sadly. "We'll speak again before Sansa and I depart. Lord Tully, please come in," Jaime said, noticing him standing in the doorway. Jaime gestured to the seat across from him.

"I was summoned," Edmure said, reluctantly sitting down, as Ser Addam left. Jaime saw the younger man looking him over. "You seem to have recovered. Despite your best efforts."

Jaime smiled to himself. "I've never been much for the sickbed. Thank you…for getting me back here alive. I'm sure your every instinct was to leave me to freeze to death in the snow."

"Sansa's fond of you. As is my lady wife. And Arya. None of them would have forgiven me if I had returned without you." Edmure looked at him curiously. "Why did you have the guards bring me to your solar?"

"We've had several ravens from King's Landing. It seems…the youngest Targaryen child has returned to Westeros with an army." He saw that Edmure understood the significance to Jaime's safety. "The capitol has fallen. Kings Landing – and the Red Keep – belong to the Targaryens once again. I expect…you recognize that fact does not speak well for my prospects of keeping my head...or not being burned to a crisp by dragons."

"Dragons?" Jaime nodded in the affirmative. "Why are you telling me about this?"

"I'm leaving, with Sansa and the children, for the Free Cities. You may get your parole sooner than you thought."

He watched as Lord Tully considered his words. "Fleeing Westeros - that's her idea, not yours. I can't imagine you'd choose to run. You were always the type that would rather die than show weakness or fear."

Jaime chuckled. "Yes. Well…after all that's been done to Sansa, she deserves to have a say in her future, rather than just being told what's going to happen. And, I suppose, I now have something to lose. You'll look after Arya and Lady Catelyn in our absence? It would relieve some of Sansa's anxiety, to know that her family was safe."

"Of course. They're my family, too. You don't have to ask."

"When the Targaryen forces arrive…bend the knee. Make it clear that you were here as a hostage. That you have never supported the Lannister cause…that you fought to remove my…my bastard from the throne. That he was a false king. You may get Riverrun back in your hands, yet."

"You'll take care of my niece, won't you?"

"Do you really need ask me that…now? You actually doubt my love for Sansa?"

Edmure shook his head. "I suppose not. Her mother, and her sister, will miss her greatly."

"I know. Perhaps…fortunes will change again and we can return. I don't know for certain but, I will try to find a way for Sansa to send messages every now and again to Arya and Lady Catelyn. Even across the Narrow Sea, we'll know how all of you are faring here in Westeros."

"When do you leave?"

"The next dawn."

Edmure nodded. "I suppose…I should thank you as well. For removing me from the Frey's noose and…for my wife. We may not be together now, if not for your actions. I do hope you and Sansa return one day."

"I'll wager you never before thought you'd one day hope to see me."

Edmure looked at his hands. "Perhaps not but...it seems this war has changed many things. And many people."

…

Their preparations for the Free Cities had been completed the day prior, and now all that was needed was the light of dawn. Jaime had told her that he wanted it to be light when they left the harbor, though much of their travels would be in darkness, until they neared the Free Cities. Until they escaped the winter that had covered Westeros in snow and darkness.

Jaime was still asleep but Sansa was sitting at the window, hoping that today the sun would rise and their new life could begin. The dawn could not come fast enough for her. She would have fled the first day news came that Daenerys Targaryen had marched to King's Landing. She leaned against the window and saw a light coming from the west and felt relief that time for their departure had arrived. Sansa looked towards the horizon to watch the sunrise.

A loud screech rang out. So loud it shook the glass in the windows. A massive creature flew through the sky, breathing fire and lighting up the darkness. _A dragon. __No…No. They can't be here already. _She saw two other dragons circling Casterly Rock and choked back a sob. Sansa had never seen something so foreign and terrifying.

She looked down at the gates to Casterly Rock and saw rows and rows of soldiers marching in formation and felt the full weight of defeat on her shoulders. The dragons screeched again, continuing to circle. She turned to Jaime, who was sitting up in bed, having heard the sound.

"What was that?"

Sansa felt tears filling her eyes. "They're attacking us."

…

_I know - cliffhanger! The next chapter will pick up where this one left off. And perhaps we'll learn what Dany has planned for Jaime..._


	75. Chapter 75

_Posting this chapter early since the reviews have reached more than 1000 _

…

Chapter 75

Jaime stood at the window beside Sansa, watching the dragons circling the sky and felt as if he were some horrible nightmare. He'd never felt so trapped. _Why is she here attacking Casterly Rock so soon? _He looked down and saw the Targaryen army approaching from the hills in the distance. _The Unsullied and Dothraki._ He shook his head, thinking how foolish this girl was, marching through Westeros with a foreign slave army. Though she may have the throne now, she'd never have the support of the people. All she had on her side was brute force. That would only hold the throne for so long. The girl had never lived in Westeros and she was quite mistaken if she believed that the people of the Realm had been awaiting the return of the Targaryens.

Jaime knew he could defend the castle against any army, but if she used the dragons to burn Casterly Rock to the ground…they would be lost. He looked at Sansa, holding Julianna in her arms, and felt a fear deep inside. _We'll all die right here in a blaze of dragonfire, and the Rock will melt to the ground like Harrenhal. I should have listened to Sansa and left as soon as we heard that King's Landing fell. If not before._

He heard an urgent knock and Ser Addam entered the chamber, looking shaken. "What in the Seven Hells are they doing here already?" Jaime raged. "Did she not even wish to enjoy her ugly new chair? Did she only stay in King's Landing long enough to burn the boy she thought was the King before marching straight for the Rock?"

"It appears that way, Jaime. I never thought she'd be so single-minded about avenging a father she's never met. It had seemed her goal was reclaiming the Iron Throne for House Targaryen but now…perhaps revenge was foremost in her mind."

Jaime nodded. "Wake our men, get them ready for battle. If you can conceive of a way to smuggle Sansa and the children out of here-"

"I'm not leaving you, Jaime." He'd never heard such determination in his wife's voice, but he argued with her nonetheless. _If I can get Sansa and Julianna to safety, I have to do it. I have to do all that I can to protect them. Even if it costs me everything else. Even if I never see them again. At least I know they are alive and safe. _

"You're not staying here, Sansa. I can't protect you from dragonfire."

"I'm not leaving unless you come with me. I'm not going to leave you to die here. You are in far more danger than I am. Didn't you say the Night's Watch travels with her? That means my brother Jon is here. He won't allow her to burn the castle with me and Arya in it. We can offer terms, Jaime. We can promise to leave, to live in exile. That may be enough to satisfy her."

"Prepare the men for battle," Jaime repeated and Addam nodded, hurrying from the room. "Sansa, if you and the children can get to safety, you must do that."

"And what will you do, Jaime? You would stay here and die? You'd leave me alone?" She shook her head. "No. I'm not going to be separated from those I belong with again in this war. I'm not leaving you. I can't leave you, Jaime. Don't ask me to."

"Dammit, Sansa. This is about your life and our daughter's life. I don't have time for your romantic notions of being together until the end."

"And I don't have time for idiotic plans that will only get you killed. I'll leave, so long as you come with me."

Jaime fought the urge to have his guards seize Sansa and forcibly remove her and the children from Casterly Rock. The tears in her eyes and the fear in her voice were the only things that stopped him. Jaime knew she would never forgive him if he sent her away and he ended up dead. And he'd never forgive himself if something happened to her and he wasn't there to protect her. _She's right. We have to stay together._ He felt Sansa wrap her arms around his waist and he held her, kissing the top of her head and stroking her hair as she clung to him. Jaime looked out the window again in despair, not knowing how they would survive this.

…

A few hours later, Jaime and Sansa were walking Tommen down into the depths of the Rock. The Targaryen soldiers were still gathering and Jaime had decided they needed to secure Tommen's safety. Jaime did not wish for Tommen to meet the same fate as the boy that was burned in his place in King's Landing. He thought it best to hide Tommen as soon as possible. He could only imagine the Mad Queen's fury when she realized she had been tricked and executed the wrong boy. Jaime had little doubt that she would do the same – if not worse - to Tommen. He knew it would not matter that Tommen never asked to sit on the throne. The boy never wanted to be king. That was all Cersei's doing. _I can't watch him burned alive. I can't let Sansa watch something so horrifying. She'd never get over it._

The little lion clutched Sansa's hand fearfully as they walked down the long winding path to the forge, while Jaime carried his cage of kittens. "Will the dragons burn us?" he asked, his little voice shaking.

"I won't let anyone hurt you, Tommen. I promise." Jaime knocked on the door to Gendry's quarters, waiting for the boy to admit them. Gendry was visibly surprised to see Jaime and Sansa standing at his door with Tommen. "M'lord…Lady Lannister…what brings you down here?"

"We need your help," Sansa began, her blue eyes begging Gendry to help them.

Tommen was dressed simply, as if he were a peasant, just in case a member of the Targaryen army should see him. Sansa took the kittens from Jaime and carried them into the room, setting them in front of the small fire Gendry had burning. Tommen followed her, sitting on the floor beside his little pets while Jaime spoke quietly to Gendry.

"He needs to be hidden. You may understand the reason. There's a new queen on the Iron Throne, and she wishes to kill him. No one can know that he's here. Or who he is. If he's found, I fear he'll be burned alive. Will you…will you keep him safe?" It was against Jaime's nature to turn to others for help, but he knew that Tommen had to be hidden if he had any hope of surviving this siege.

"Of course, Lord Lannister. No one will know that he's here. I'll protect him, as Lady Arya protected me."

"Don't tell anyone who…who fathered you. The new queen is a Targaryen and while the Targaryens hate Lannisters…they hate Robert Baratheon even more. You'd be in just as much danger as Tommen." Gendry seemed afraid now, but nodded his agreement.

Jaime listened to Sansa comfort the child. "Tommen, you know Arya's friend Gendry, don't you?" The boy nodded, smiling shyly at Gendry. "You're going to stay here with Gendry for a while…until we leave on our adventure."

She saw Tommen's face fall as he realized that they weren't going to stay with him. "You said you'd always take care of me."

"We are taking care of you. You're safest here. When we're able to leave, we'll come get you. We'll all be together."

"Do you promise?"

"I promise." Tommen hugged her tightly, and she closed her eyes. Jaime could see that Sansa was fighting tears and that she was not as confident that she would see Tommen again as she pretended to be. He knew that she was putting on a brave face for Tommen's sake. "This is just as when you traveled here with Margaery. If anyone asks your name, tell them your name is Tom and you traveled here with Gendry from Flea Bottom. All right?"

He nodded, against her shoulder. "I love you, Sansa."

"I love you, too, Tommen. I love you as if you were my own little boy. I do. Don't ever forget that."

Sansa rose to her feet as Jaime knelt down beside her, hugging the boy tightly. "I need you to be the brave lion that I know you are. All right? Whatever happens, you are brave and you are not afraid of anything." He nodded and Jaime patted the top of the boy's head. Jaime looked at Gendry. "Take care of him. And of yourself."

As soon as the door closed and they began walking away from Tommen, Sansa started to cry. Jaime stopped walking and pulled her into his arms. "Shh…Don't cry. I won't let anyone hurt you. Not anyone. Don't give up hope. We can still find a way to leave here and be together. All four of us." He wasn't certain that he believe his own words, but he needed Sansa to hold herself together. He needed her to be strong.

"I hate this, Jaime. I just…I just want to be left alone, with you and our family. I can't be a hostage again. I can't have another family taken away from me. I can't."

_Nor can I_, he thought, holding her tightly.

…

Sansa stood at one of the massive windows in the Great Hall, watching the rows and rows of soldiers line up around Casterly Rock and panic began to set in. For the past few hours, soldiers had continued to stream in from the hills surrounding Lannisport. Now, they were all lined up and probably waiting for the order to attack. Sansa could see that they had no hope of escaping, as they were completely surrounded. She remembered how terrified she had been during the Battle of Blackwater. That fear was nothing in comparison to what she felt now.

_You can only be brave if you are afraid._ Sansa remembered her father telling Bran that many years ago. _I can be brave. I can fight._

Lady Catelyn, Edmure, Lady Roslin and Arya were all gathered at the other windows lining the Great Hall, watching the scene unfold as Jaime and Ser Addam gathered around a map with the captains of Jaime's army, determining the best course of action. She felt somewhat reassured by how calm and in control Jaime was, but she wondered how much of it was real, and how much of it was the mask he wore as Lord of Casterly Rock.

She looked across the hall at Arya and saw the wonder on her face at the sight of the dragons flying through the air, though two of them had flown away from the Rock, no doubt seeking out their queen. "There are thousands of them," Sansa whispered to herself, watching the lines of soldiers that went on for miles, moving closer and closer to the Rock. She looked at her mother and uncle Edmure and saw that their expressions were grim.

Sansa felt Jaime's hands on her shoulders and tried to force herself to stay calm, but she couldn't. Not with that horrible sight in front of her. "What are we going to do?" she whispered.

"For now, we'll wait them out. Thanks to you, we can stay locked away for years without starving. I don't expect they have the supplies for such a long stalemate."

"Do you think the…the queen came herself, or merely sent her men?"

"I don't know, Sansa." She leaned against Jaime, praying that she could stay safely in his arms forever.

Sansa heard her mother's voice, hard, yet fearful at the same time. "I certainly hope you plan to do something about this. Or would you see us all burn?"

"I assure you, Lady Stark, I have no desire to see anyone here burned. If you have any suggestions, I'd be most interested to hear them. I myself am not familiar in slaying dragons."

"Maybe the dragonglass would work," Arya suggested, not even bothering to take her eyes away from the incredible sight before her.

"Will you launch an attack?" Edmure asked. "Force her slave army to fight?"

Jaime shook his head. "Not yet. They can't get inside the Rock. I don't see the point in men dying needlessly."

Sansa gasped and Jaime followed her line of vision. One of the dragons was nearing the large gates closing off the road to Casterly Rock. Without warning, it began blowing fire at the gate, melting it into the ground in seconds. Jaime waited for the Unsullied to march through – not that they could gain access to the Lion's Mouth - but they remained where they were.

"She not attacking us, Sansa. Don't be scared. She's just showing us what the dragons can do. She wants to scare you."

"I'm already scared."

She saw him gesture to Ser Addam who nodded. "We may have found a way out of here. Come with me," he whispered, walking her back toward the rear of the castle. "Ser Addam had two men take out a small boat through the back of the Rock. The castle hasn't been used as a port for centuries – the gates have been closed for as long as I can remember but we've managed to get the gates working again and it is still possible to leave the Rock that way."

"Why are you sending out a boat with your men in it?"

"I want to see how well guarded the rear of the castle is. As you see, we can't escape through the front entrance of the castle – she has it surrounded. But, the Mad Queen doesn't appear to have a navy and any scouts that could watch that side of the Rock facing the Sunset Sea would have to be far away. I doubt they could see anything in the dark. If we can get this boat out safely, without drawing their notice, then I think we will be able to escape that way and get to our ship in the harbor."

"We? So you'll leave with me?"

He smiled, wrapping his arm around her. "Yes, sweet girl. I'll leave with you and Julianna and Tommen." She closed her eyes and prayed to the Seven that this worked. She prayed for the chance to grow old with Jaime.

"Do you see the boat there?" Jaime said quietly.

Sansa could barely see anything, though Jaime assured her that the decoy boat had just exited the rear of Casterly Rock. Just as she was able to make out the slight movement – mainly from the moonlight reflecting off the metal of the soldiers' helmets, Sansa saw one of the dragons circling. Sansa was filled with dread as it began breathing its fire, which lit up the sky. The dragon flew closer to the rowboat and Sansa stifled a scream as the dragon blew fire at the boat, burning it away to nothing in seconds.

She looked at Jaime and saw that he was feeling similarly defeated. "We're trapped here."

…

After two days of sitting and waiting, they watched in disbelief as the peace banner went up and a single rider approached the Lion's Mouth. Jaime knew his archers were prepared to shoot at the first sign of a trick or attack from this lone rider. One of his men rode out to meet the man in black sent by the Targaryen girl and accepted a parchment before both returned to their respective sides of the siege.

Sansa turned and looked at him in question. "A message…we'll learn what she wants soon enough."

"Perhaps she wants peace? To let us go?"

He didn't answer her, but Jaime doubted it was the case. She would not have ridden all the way to Casterly Rock with her army so very soon after taking the Red Keep, just to pardon her father's murderer. Jaime waited impatiently for the message to be brought up to him, pacing back and forth. His soldier must have run the entire way, as it was only a few moments before the parchment was placed in Jaime's hand. He opened it and laughed bitterly.

"What is it?" Sansa asked, leaning over to read the message.

"Daenerys Targaryen, the rightful Queen of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm, asks that the Ser Jaime Lannister, the Kingslayer, parlay with her representative – Tyrion Lannister."

…

_Thank you so much for reading and reviewing. This is the first fanfiction I have ever shared online, and I never would have thought I would be posting Chapter 75, with more than 1000 reviews and almost 400 follows, so thank you all. And, there's still more to the story._

_Next Chapter: Jaime meets with Tyrion_


	76. Chapter 76

Chapter 76

Jaime sat at the table in the Great Hall, anxiously awaiting his brother's arrival. He had not seen his brother in well over a year – not since the night he had freed him from the dungeons in King's Landing. Not since the night Tyrion had killed their father. _I wonder if he still hates me, or if time has allowed his anger to fade. I wonder if he's the same brother I loved, or if learning the truth about his wife has changed him forever._

Lord Tywin had been a hard man, who did not know how to show love or affection for his children. Jaime would never deny that. He was unfailingly critical and his treatment of Tyrion throughout their lives was inexcusable. But, despite his faults, Jaime had loved his father. He had wanted to please him. His biggest reservation about joining the Kingsguard had been the knowledge of how much it would anger and disappoint his father. He still remembered the cold rage in Lord Tywin's eyes when he heard that King Aerys had stolen his heir. In that moment, Jaime had wished he could undo it – no matter what Cersei wanted. He had thought his father hated him. Which, he saw now, had only pushed him more firmly into Cersei's clutches.

_I wish he had lived to see that I fulfilled my duty as his heir. I wish he had lived to know about Julianna's birth._

Lord Tywin's death had forced Jaime to take on the responsibilities of being Lord of Casterly Rock much sooner than he had ever anticipated. Now that he was surrounded by dragons and enemy forces, Jaime couldn't help feeling that he had failed. He wondered what his father would have done differently, upon learning that Daenerys Targaryen had returned to Westeros with an army, set to take the Iron Throne. He knew that Tywin Lannister never would have allowed himself to become a prisoner inside the Rock as Jaime was now. _Perhaps it's for the best that Lord Tywin is dead. He'd only be disappointed at my failures. _Jaime heard the sound of his soldiers approaching the Great Hall and stood, anticipating his brother's arrival.

Jaime had sent word that he would parlay with his brother. Jaime had agreed to allow Tyrion admittance, as requested, though he would only allow one other person, of Tyrion's choosing, to accompany him into the Rock, for their meeting. Jaime had no intention to allow a hoard of Dothrakis inside Casterly Rock, peace banner or no. He'd been surprised that the Targaryen girl was willing to send her representative into the Rock, rather than requesting that they meet on neutral ground. Perhaps because she was sending his brother, she thought her emissary would be safe.

Jaime met his brother's eyes as he entered the Great Hall. Tyrion Lannister looked much as he had when Jaime last saw him more than a year ago. He supposed Tyrion seemed a bit gaunt, though his scars had faded quite a bit in the past year. Seeing him again made Jaime feel the full weight of the loss of his relationship with his brother. _I've missed him. He should be at my side, helping me find a way out of this mess, rather than helping the girl who wishes me dead. __Tyrion was far better at strategizing than Jaime and he felt certain that if they were working together, they could prevail in this war._

_I wish I had never confessed the truth to him._

He noticed that Tyrion had elected not to enter Casterly Rock alone. And Jaime fought mightily to conceal his surprise when Ned Stark's bastard followed him into the Great Hall. _I suppose this confirms the Night's Watch is no longer remains neutral in matters of politics. _The new Lord Commander of the Night's Watch was on his guard, clearly uncomfortable inside the Lannister stronghold. He saw that the boy was looking around curiously and wondered if he was looking for evidence of Sansa's presence. Jaime stood beside Ser Addam waiting as they approached him.

Sansa had wanted to stay with Jaime when he parlayed with Tyrion. She didn't have to say anything for him to know that a big reason why she wished to remain was as emotional support for her. She knew how difficult it would be for him to see his brother again after what had happened the night Tyrion was freed. But Jaime could not show any weakness when he was negotiating for their lives. He had insisted that she wait with her family, and her guards, in another room. He was Lord of the Rock and it fell to him to negotiate with the Targaryen queen and him alone.

He could see that Tyrion was drinking in all of the details of their childhood home, having been away from it for so long. "Lord Lannister," Tyrion said grandly, addressing Jaime as if he were merely an acquaintance and not his brother. "It has been quite a long time."

"Yes. I believe I last saw you the night you murdered our father." Jaime wanted to ask how he could do it – how he could kill Lord Tywin after Jaime saved his life - but they weren't alone, and he couldn't speak freely. They met as enemies, not as brothers.

"That was also the night I learned what a fool I was to think that my perfect, golden brother actually loved me." Jaime nearly flinched at his words. "Besides, Father understood righting a past wrong," Tyrion said coldly. "He and Cersei hated me from the moment I was born and sought to punish me for it. As if I wanted mother to die birthing me. As if I wanted to be a dwarf. I daresay Father would have approved of my actions. If nothing else, I proved myself a true Lannister when I shot that arrow into his belly."

"I never treated you as anything other than my brother."

"Oh, Jaime. If that were true, I'd be happily married to my sweet Tysha. Instead, because of you, and father, I spent my life thinking only a whore would have me. A true brother would never have helped father devastate me as you did." _I was wrong. He is very different._ Tyrion had a coldness to him now that Jaime had never seen. He wondered what Tyrion had done after Jaime liberated him. He wondered how he came to be at the side of Daenerys Targaryen.

"What does she want?" Jaime finally asked, realizing that there would be no reunion with his brother. He'd rather get on with the parlay and get it over with.

"Would you be rid of us so quickly? I think some refreshment would be nice, before getting down to business"

"Bread and salt, I assume?" Though he found it insulting that Tyrion would feel he needed guest rights to avoid death at Jaime's hand, he made the offer all the same. If he was determined to act cold and detached, Jaime would accommodate him and treat him as a stranger, not his brother visiting their childhood home.

"I'd prefer wine. We have been traveling at a rather punishing pace for the past few months. Truly, the longest rest we had was when the Queen battled Stannis and his red witch. The North is bloody cold. Besides, if you truly wished to kill me, I don't think a few grains of salt would stop you."

Jaime called for a serving girl, and waited as the wine was poured. "What happened to Stannis?"

"Burned, along with his wife and that awful red witch of his. Though the Queen took a shine to the little girl…Shireen. She left her in King's Landing."

Hearing that Stannis Baratheon had fallen to the Targaryen girl did little to ease Jaime's concerns about his and Sansa's current imprisonment at the Rock. He looked at the new Lord Commander of the Night's Watch, who had not yet uttered a word. The bastard just stood behind Tyrion, glaring at Jaime. He was just a green boy when Jaime had met him at Winterfell. He still seemed rather young, but there was a maturity in his eyes. Jaime wondered how he had fared at the Wall. From what Jaime knew, it was not a kind place. They boy likely had a difficult time adjusting, after growing up in the comforts of Winterfell. He wondered how the boy had managed to remain at the Wall, knowing what was happening to his family. The Starks seemed to be rather close and familial with one another.

"What about you, Snow? Congratulations on your new title…I suppose. Though it seems a rather dubious honor to be leader to such a group of misfits. Tell me, did Lord Commander Mormont not teach you that the Night's Watch does not get involved in politics? It's most inappropriate for you to take sides in this war. Quite bad form that you are here as an emissary of a claimant to the Iron Throne."

"Oh, Jaime, the Dragon Queen is much more than a mere claimant," Tyrion chided.

"And the Night's Watch is not taking sides," the bastard ground out. "I don't give a damn who sits on the Iron Throne. We came South hunting the White Walkers, as is our duty to protect the Realm from those Beyond the Wall. The Queen's dragons are mighty helpful with that."

"You won't find any White Walkers this far South. My men and I took care of them, and their wights, months ago." His eyes flicked to Tyrion. "All that dragonglass you collected over the years turned out to be good for something. I appreciate the warning and the information about the obsidian, Snow."

"I don't need your appreciation, Kingslayer. I sent the letter to protect Sansa and Arya and their lady mother. Not you."

"Hunting the White Walkers doesn't explain what you are doing _here_. Surely you don't expect to find White Walkers inside the walls of Casterly Rock."

"No. I expect to find my sisters here. Unless, of course, Sansa's letters were filled with lies and Arya is still lost."

"You think so little of your sister that you don't believe her letters?"

"It's you that I don't believe. You could have made her write that. Since your bastard killed Lord Stark, Sansa's only done what she's had to in order to stay alive. Even if it meant playing the part of the loving wife to an enemy of her house. I don't blame her for what she's had to do. After watching our father beheaded by your bastard, I'd expect she would do anything to keep her head." Jaime felt his anger rise, and turned his attention to his brother, rather than the young man who looked so much like Ned Stark standing in judgment of him. _Tyrion knows that Sansa loves me. Yet he's allowed the boy to think the worst of me._

"So, tell me, Tyrion. Why is your Mad Queen putting all of you through such a punishing schedule? I would have thought she'd like to enjoy her throne for a few days, at least. To celebrate her triumph…and the brutal burning of an innocent child for her own amusement. If she's anything like her father, she should have at least spent several hours sating herself in the bedchamber. Perhaps with young Lord Snow here. A good burning always aroused the Mad King. In fact, I think that's how your queen was conceived."

Tyrion smiled and poured himself another cup of wine, while the boy was clearly forcing himself not to attack Jaime. "Tell me brother, since you bring it up, where is Tommen?"

"Dead. Killed by your queen, or weren't you there for her display of brutality?"

"I realize I left the capitol some time ago, but I do recall what my own nephew looks like. It was not Tommen who died by dragonfire."

"If you did not believe the child to be Tommen, I wonder why you would allow her to burn an innocent." Tyrion looked away and Jaime realized that for all his bluster, he still cared something for his family. He realized that Tyrion had been protecting Tommen. "Why did she burn him?"

"The same reason she marched straight here with barely a day's rest – Littlefinger. She knows little of Westeros and has come to rely on him in matters of politics. I expect she'll name him Hand of the Queen. He convinced her that the people needed to see that she was their Queen now. That they needed to see the little ursurper burn. That they needed to see what her dragons could do – to see what she could do to those who opposed her. He also convinced her that it was an insult to her reign to allow the man who killed her father and helped Robert steal her throne, to live in peace, as Lord of the Rock. He's told her that the People would never bend the knee if she showed you any mercy."

"However did he meet up with her and become such a trusted advisor?"

Tyrion shook his head. "The same way I did…there are those of us who crave the power…who long to play the game. When we're kicked out…we find the surest way to climb back in. And then there are those like you who merely wish to be left alone. You always wanted nothing more than to lose yourself in the practice grounds and…the woman you worshipped. I suppose you must have enjoyed your time here with Lady Sansa. I'm surprised you allowed her family to accompany the two of you. I would have thought you'd rather have her all to yourself."

"Will you bring my sisters to me or not?" Jon Snow asked harshly, having no wish to hear about Jaime's marriage to his sister.

"Ah, Snow, forgot you were here for a moment. Yes, Sansa and Arya are both here. They are quite well. Your sister, Sansa, has made…a most devoted wife." Jaime couldn't resist provoking the boy a bit. "Tell me, Snow, what exactly is your relationship with the Mad Queen? Have those vows of celibacy not worked out for you? You must mean something to her, that she would send you as her emissary in such an…important negotiation?"

The bastard glared at him. "I'd like to see my sisters," he repeated.

Jaime wanted to refuse him, but he knew that if he proved to the boy that his sisters were there, he might use whatever influence he had with the Targaryen girl to save them. "Please escort my lady wife and her sister in to join us," Jaime instructed his guards standing at the door.

"Your lady wife," the boy said with contempt. "Do you think I haven't heard – even all the way at the Wall – what your family has done to mine? What your bastard and your sister put her through…and now you."

"You speak of what was done to Sansa, but did you do anything to help her?" Jaime asked coldly, tired of the boy's attitude. "You Starks speak of honor and family but…where was that honor when it came time to protect and defend your sister? None of you lifted a finger to liberate Sansa from King's Landing."

"You have no idea how many times I thought about riding south and taking my sister home. But I took vows. You wouldn't know anything about keeping vows, would you, Kingslayer? Sansa is blameless in all of this, but not you. I blame you. And I blame myself. You're right. I should have protected her and Robb. I can only imagine what it's been like for her – forced to marry into the family of an enemy house. I'd have wished for nothing more than to leave the Wall and save her. She…She doesn't deserve to be broken as she has been."

From what Sansa had told him of her brother, she doubted he had ever strung so many words together. _He cares for her very much. Let us hope he will protect her. _Jaime smiled tightly. "You needn't be so overwrought. I assure you, she's quite happy. You may not believe it, but she looks upon our marriage as the end to her nightmare."

He practically snorted in derision, and then froze, his eyes locked on the doorway behind Jaime. He didn't have to turn around to know that Sansa and Arya were there. He knew it had been nearly two years since the boy had seen his sisters. And based on his words, he'd struggled with his desire to abandon his vows and protect them.

"Jon!" Arya ran and threw herself into her brother's arms, though Sansa hesitated next to Jaime's chair as Arya prattled on about the dragonglass and asking after his wolf. Jaime turned to look at his wife and he saw that she carried Julianna in her arms. He smiled to himself, seeing that she was making a point of showing their baby to her brother. He imagined that she wanted to be certain he knew that her baby would die if he allowed the Targaryen girl to burn the castle.

"I had not heard you'd been so blessed," Tyrion said, looking at the baby in Sansa's arms. Julianna met Tyrion's eyes and smiled brightly, leaning her head against Sansa. Jaime didn't understand why his brother seemed so stricken by his having had a child. "She has your eyes, Jaime."

Sansa slowly walked over to her brother and sister. Snow smiled at her tentatively as Arya hung on his arm. He gently embraced her, careful not to crush the baby in her arms. She had written and told him that she was with child, but he seemed stunned to actually see that she was a mother – to see her holding her baby.

"What's her name?" he asked, quietly, looking at the babe carefully.

"Julianna."

"She's beautiful, Sansa. She looks just like you."

"Please don't let the queen hurt Jaime," she whispered, though Jaime heard her. He saw the surprise on the boy's face and he led Sansa a few steps away, wishing to speak to her out of his earshot.

"Has he hurt you?"

"He's never hurt me, not ever," Sansa continued. "I love him, Jon. I need him. Please." He saw the boy touch Sansa's face and realized he was wiping away her tears.

"Arya…return to your mother now. We have business to discuss." He looked up at Sansa. "You may stay if you wish." She nodded, giving the baby to Arya and sitting next to Jaime. "Are you all right?" he whispered, resting his hand on her shoulder. She nodded.

Arya reluctantly left the Great Hall, once Jaime promised she would be able to see her brother again before he left. Arya walked slowly, carrying the babe, who watched them over her aunt's shoulder. Jaime turned back to Tyrion, noticing he was staring after Julianna with a troubled expression on his face. "What does she want?" Jaime asked bluntly.

Tyrion shook his head, looking at Jaime once more, tearing his gaze away from the baby being carried away. "Sorry?"

"Your Mad Queen. She sent you here to negotiate peace on her behalf. What does she want?"

Tyrion took a sip of wine before he responded. "She wants you to surrender the castle."

"She's promised it to you, I take it?"

"Yes."

"You actually believe the people of Lannisport will accept the man who killed their liege lord? A kinslayer?"

"They'll not have a choice," Tyrion said tightly. Jaime felt Sansa rest her hand on his arm, trying to tell him to be less harsh on his brother. "The Queen's dragons will ensure their allegiance."

"Fear and loyalty are not one in the same," Jaime said quietly. "And what do I get in exchange for the Rock?"

"The Queen won't have her dragons burn it to the ground with your wife and daughter in it. If your men bend the knee, and agree to serve…their new Lord…they'll not be harmed or imprisoned. I understand you have some hostages here?"

Jaime nodded. "The Northern lords who were imprisoned by Walder Frey after the Red Wedding." He saw the Snow boy's jaw twitch at the mention of the murder of his brother. "Lady Catelyn and her youngest daughter are here. As well as Lord and Lady Tully and their babe."

"If they bend the knee, recognize Daenerys as the true and rightful queen of Westeros, they may remain here, as my honored guests, until a proper home for them may be located. The Northerners are free to return home."

"And me? And Sansa? What does she propose to do with us, should we agree to her terms?"

"Lady Sansa…won't be harmed but...there will be no pardon for you."

"Then there will be no surrender," Sansa said immediately.

Jaime wasn't surprised, and looked at his wife for a long moment before returning his gaze to Tyrion. "You didn't seek to use your influence to spare your own brother's life?" Jaime asked, though after observing Tyrion's manner toward him, he had not expected anything different. "Tell your queen that if she allows us to live in exile, and won't harm anyone in the keep, she can have Casterly Rock. We'll leave and never return."

Tyrion shook his head. "There will be no negotiating. You reject her offer?"

"I do. If she won't negotiate, then I suppose the siege continues."

Tyrion shook his head, rising to his feet. "No. It won't. She's not a patient woman."

"What does that mean?"

Sansa turned her head as the sounds of screams and swords clashing filled the castle. Jaime reached for Sansa and drew his sword, looking at Tyrion in question.

"I'm sorry, Jaime."

He turned at the sound of marching and saw that many Unsullied were in the castle, dripping wet and foul-smelling. "You forget…father put me in charge of the plumbing here at the Rock. The pipes are plenty large enough for people to crawl through. The Queen did not wish to negotiate with you. She merely needed someone inside to…distract you and your men."

Jaime ordered his guards to attack, but the words died on his lips as he saw that one of the Queen's soldiers held Julianna in his arms, a blade at her throat. Arya was struggling fiercely with two other men who held her arms and Sansa began to cry.

"What are they doing, Lannister? I didn't agree to this. Let her go. Let my sister go. Give her the child." Jon Snow was clearly surprised by Tyrion's actions and tried to draw his sword, though several Unsullied held him back.

"Don't fight and the babe won't be harmed," Tyrion said, unable to meet any of their eyes.

"You came in here under a peace banner!" Jaime yelled.

Jaime was disarmed and held at the point of a multitude of swords, but Jaime didn't care about that. He only cared about Sansa and Julianna. She was crying and screaming for them to release her baby. She was also looking at Tyrion with utter hatred.

"What did I ever do to you?" she screamed. "I tried to help you when you were on trial. I thought we were friends."

"I apologize, Sansa. You may not believe this, but I am doing you a kindness. I'm sparing you a fiery death. Once the castle is taken…your child will be returned unharmed."

Jaime was shaking with rage. "Is this how your Mad Queen plans to win the loyalty of the people? Waving the white flag and tricking people into a parlay? By proving that her word is worthless? By ordering her uncivilized beasts to hold babies at swordpoint?"

Tyrion looked down before meeting his brother's eyes. "Daenerys Targareyen is not known for her honor. Nor for keeping her word."

…

_Sorry for that…both the cliffhanger and Tyrion's treachery, but I don't see Jaime magically being forgiven by Tyrion or Dany the moment they march into Westeros. Both of them have had a lot of time to brood over their anger and work themselves up into a state. Dany has probably spent her whole life hearing how the throne was stolen from them and how Jaime betrayed her father. But…there's more to come and we'll learn more about Littlefinger's influence and why Tyrion has had to go along with this plan to take Casterly Rock._

_Next chapter: Sansa pleads with Dany for Jaime's life_


	77. Chapter 77

_Thanks to all of you who reviewed the last chapter - good or bad. I knew it would be controversial, but I also think it is consistent with the novels. For those of you who think it is out of character for Dany to threaten and/or kill Jaime's children, I would say to keep reading, since we haven't actually seen her yet. We've only seen the actions of those working on her behalf. (I am simplifying Dany's story from the books, so everything that happened to her and Jorah and Tyrion in the books may not be included in this story. Mainly, I'm ignoring most of A Dance with Dragons.)_

_This chapter got a little long..._

_..._

Chapter 77

Jaime had taken many castles, but he'd never been on the losing end of a siege. _Oh, how the fortunes have reversed,_he thought, remembering the sack of King's Landing, when the Lannisters had taken the Red Keep. Now, as he and his baby daughter were being held at sword point, while Sansa cried in his arms, and watched a foreign army invade Casterly Rock, Jaime felt like an utter failure. He'd never felt so helpless in his life. Not even when Vargo Hoat took his hand. His mind screamed at him to do something. To fight them. To stop them. Though he could scarce fight when they had a blade to his daughter's throat. _I could kill Tyrion for this._

"Release the babe. Now," he ordered in a tone that left no doubt as to his words, even if these so-called Unsullied did not speak the common tongue. _If I get the opportunity, this girl and her slave army will come to regret the day they set foot in Casterly Rock._ Arya continued to struggle against the men that held her arms, kicking and scratching, though the men who held her did not react to her at all. Lady Catelyn, Edmure and Roslin were ushered into the Great Hall. Lady Roslin clutched her own babe to her chest, and all of their eyes widened as they saw Julianna being held as a hostage.

Sansa clung to Jaime's side as tears streamed down her face. Her eyes remained fastened on Julianna's little face. Though the soldier had lowered the sword he held to her throat, Jaime knew very well that the man could kill her in a second with his bare hands. He forced his mind away from thoughts of what his father's men had done to Rhaeger's children during the Sack. Jaime felt his heart constrict as Julianna began to cry, reaching for Jaime and Sansa as she squirmed in the man's arms.

"Give my sister her baby," Jon ground out, struggling against the soldiers that restrained him from interfering with their takeover of the castle. "And let go of my sister." It was clear that Snow had not known what the Targaryen girl had planned, but Jaime had little sympathy for the boy. He should not even be there, giving the impression that the Night's Watch had thrown its support behind anyone vying for the Iron Throne.

Jaime turned his attention to Tyrion, who had the grace to look shamed by what had happened. _I may have lied to him about Tysha, but I spent my entire life trying to make it up to him. I've loved him as a true brother and he would torment my wife and child. He would serve me up for death._ _My own brother has ensured that I am executed._"Tyrion," Jaime spit out angrily, getting his brother's attention. "Tell them to give my daughter to her mother. Now."

Jaime could see that he still had the ability to inspire fear – one hand or know – even with a sword pointed at him. Tyrion gestured for the soldier holding Julianna to return the child. He obeyed his order and gave her to Sansa. She clutched the baby tightly to her chest and shielded her from the Unsullied, turning toward Jaime to protect her between the two of them. It was as if Sansa expected them to snatch the baby away from her again. He leaned over and kissed the top of Julianna's head, hoping that she and Sansa would be spared whatever this girl had planned for him. He was glad they had already hidden Tommen away in the forge, where he would be safe.

"How could you do this?" she hissed at Tyrion. He had never seen such seething anger from Sansa. "How could you do this to us after Jaime freed you from the dungeons in King's Landing? He could have left you there to die. I asked Jaime to help you, but now I wish he had let Cersei take your head."

Normally Tyrion would respond back to such an attack, but he remained silent, looking away, in the face of Sansa's rage. _At least he realizes that he's wronged her, if not me._

The Unsullied were eerily silent, holding swords on all of them as they awaited the arrival of their Queen. He met Ser Addam's grim expression over Sansa's head and Jaime knew he was doomed. _He could accept anything, as long as his wife and baby weren't harmed._He nodded at Ser Addam, hoping he would do as he'd asked and bend the knee to the Targaryen girl.

"What's going to happen, now?" Sansa whispered fearfully to Jaime. Both she and Julianna were clutching him, seeking comfort.

"I expect we're waiting for their queen. You must be brave, Sansa. Whatever happens, you must be brave," he whispered. Though he felt fear on the inside, he couldn't allow his wife to see it. He had to be strong for her. He could close off his emotions for her sake. His greatest fear was that his death sentence would extend to Sansa because she was his wife, and he would do anything to protect her and save her life. He looked down at Sansa, who was trying to calm Julianna. _I love them more than anything. _He could bear anything, so long as Sansa was safe.

Sansa's grip on Jaime tightened as a woman entered the Great Hall who could only be Daenerys Targaryen. She resembled her mother, Queen Rhaella, very much. She was rather petite, shorter than Sansa, with her parents' silver hair and violet eyes. She also had the same air of entitlement as the Mad King. _I wonder who taught her that the Realm was hers for the taking._He had not seen such arrogance before in one so young. Except perhaps Joffrey_._She wore breeches, rather than a gown, with a long coat covering it, and a black fur cloak. No doubt her attire was a remnant from her time with the Dothraki. _If she truly wishes to be accepted by the People of Westeros, she'll need to make an effort to be more like them. The ways of her savages will not be welcomed._

Jaime had received reports that Ser Barristan Selmy and Jorah Mormont traveled with the Targaryen girl, but he still felt a flutter of surprise when the old knight he had admired for so much of his life entered the Great Hall. Jaime had been only fifteen years old when he joined the Kingsguard, and his father had promptly left Kings Landing in fit of anger, taking Cersei with him and leaving Jaime there alone. In many ways, Ser Barristan had been as much of a father – as much of an influence – as Lord Tywin had been. Jaime had worshipped Ser Barristan and Ser Arthur Dayne when he joined the Kingsguard. He had thought it a terrible mistake when he heard that Cersei had dismissed Ser Barristan from the Kingsguard and installed Jaime as Lord Commander.

He thought about what a disgrace the Kingsguard had become under Joffrey and Cersei's leadership. It was no longer the elite brotherhood that it once was. Jaime wondered if Ser Barristan would have stopped Sansa's beatings, had he been there. When he thought back to standing outside the royal bedchamber, listening to the Mad King raping his queen, while his brothers told him that he was not to judge the king and he was not to protect the queen from him, Jaime realized that Ser Barristan would not have disobeyed Joffrey. He would not have intervened on Sansa's behalf and protected her. Ser Barristan was a simple man. A soldier. He was like Ned Stark - a man who blindly obeyed vows, no matter the consequence.

Jaime had been surprised to hear that Jorah Mormont with her. Cersei had mentioned that he was spying for Lord Varys in hopes of obtaining a pardon from Robert. He wondered what had made him stay to serve her once he could no longer spy for Robert. He wondered if the Targaryen girl knew that her faithful knight had betrayed her and caused the King to send assassins after her. _If not, perhaps I can use that to my advantage._He knew that he and Sansa were in grave danger and he could not afford to make any mistakes. He had to carefully guard and use every piece of information. _That's how this will be won - with intellect, not with steel.__I'm not good at this. Not like Tyrion or my father. I have to think of what they would do in my place._

Lord Baelish arrived, following the queen and her guards. Jaime noticed that Sansa moved closer to him when she noticed Littlefinger's presence. Jaime watched him carefully and saw his eyes linger on both Sansa and her mother, his interest apparent. Lady Catelyn protectively stepped closer to Sansa, which confused Jaime, since he thought she considered Peter Bayish to be a friend. _Perhaps she listened to what I told her about his actions in the capitol. Perhaps she now believes, that he lied to her and betrayed Ned Stark._

The young queen surveyed the room and immediately ordered the guards who restrained Jon Snow to release him, apologizing for her soldier's actions. Jaime couldn't help thinking she had made a mistake – showing her fondness for the boy in front of enemies. _I can perhaps use that as well._

Once they released him, Jon Snow looked at the girl in confusion and disappointment. "You didn't tell me this was all a trick, your grace. We obtained admittance to Casterly Rock under a peace banner. How will you ever negotiate in the future, now that you've shown that your word is meaningless? When you raise a peace banner, you make a promise- "

"How dare you question her, Snow?" Jorah Mormont snarled.

"How dare you allow her to show all of the Realm not to trust her?"

Jaime was watching carefully, and saw the hostility Mormont had for the Stark bastard. _Of course, Ned Stark was the one who condemned Mormont to death, for being a slaver. __Jaime wondered if how he felt about that and if any hostility he had for Ned Stark extended to his children__._ Jaime also noticed that Mormont stayed rather close to the Queen. He recalled that Mormont was a romantic fool – becoming a slaver just to keep his shallow, faithless wife. _I wonder if the little dragon queen returns his affections. He seems jealous of Jon Snow, so perhaps not._

She interrupted their bickering. "We did what was necessary to take the castle, Lord Snow. My brother Rhaeger fought with honor. And he died for it. As did his wife and children." It was clear that she would offer no apology, though she seemed to regret deceiving the Lord Commander. Jaime noted that she was not angry that the boy had challenged her decisions before an enemy, as she should have been. _She must have some affection for him to allow such liberties._

"Was it necessary to hold my sister's baby at sword point while she cried for her mother?"

That seemed to have an impact. She began speaking to the Unsullied in High Valaryan. Jaime understood enough to know that she had not asked them to threaten Julianna. After the soldiers responded to her, she spun and addressed Littlefinger. "Did you tell them to threaten the life of a baby?" she asked furiously.

"I did, your grace, but the child was never in any danger. I was very clear that they should not actually harm her. I told them that the mere threat of harm would ensure that those in the castle would be...compliant."

"I thought I was clear after-" she broke off abruptly, realizing she could not show weakness or dissension in her ranks. She looked over at Julianna before returning her gaze to Jon Snow. "The child appears unharmed. She's certainly fared better during the taking of the castle than my brother's children did when the Lannisters took King's Landing."

"Ser Barristan," Jaime began, trying to take control of the conversation. "Welcome to Casterly Rock. I'd offer you and...your queen some refreshment, but it seems I'm not presently in a position to do so. I'm surprised to see you serving another Targaryen, given how it turned out for you the last time."

"The Khaleesi is the rightful Queen of the Seven Kingdoms."

"Khaleesi, is it? I wonder, if you believe the Iron Throne belongs to the Targaryens, why you served King Robert for as long as you did. It would seem that you should have sought her out years ago. Perhaps fled along with she and Viserys to serve as their personal guards. But you didn't. I seem to recall that you knelt beside me, before Robert Baratheon, and begged forgiveness for our sins. What sins were you asking forgiveness for? Perhaps you're with her because you merely needed a new master once you were dismissed."

He saw the girls eyes darken with hate when she focused on Jaime. "The Kingslayer?" she asked, turning to Lord Baelish.

"Yes, your grace," Littlefinger smarmed, moving close to the girl who called herself a queen, though she was not more than a few years older than Sansa.

"Ser Jaime Lannister, will do. _Khaleesi_." Jaime knew he was walking a fine line. He couldn't show fear or weakness, but he had to take care not to provoke her anger _too _much. "An interesting group of advisors you've collected for yourself."

Her eyes narrowed as she considered him. "You're the one who started this? The one who killed the rightful king?"

"I did kill Aerys," Jaime allowed. "But he brought the war on himself. As did Rhaeger, when he foolishly took Lyanna Stark. Rhaeger would have an excellent king," Jaime allowed. "Your father was not. He brought the Seven Kingdoms down on his own head."

He saw the same fire in her eyes that he had seen in the Mad King countless time before. "Take him to the dungeons. We'll take him with us to the capitol and he'll be executed for treason."

Jaime didn't allow himself to show or feel any fear. "Am I not entitled to a trial..._Khaleesi_?" Jaime asked, though he could imagine the type of trial she would come up with. Likely the same awarded to Rickard Stark.

"You are entitled to nothing. I'll see you dead in a hail of dragonfire and the People will rejoice that their true queen is on the throne and that an Oathbreaker is dead."

_Who on earth gave her the impression that the small folk of Westeros longed for the return of the Targaryens?_Before Jaime could respond, Sansa shoved Julianna into his arms and knelt on the ground before the queen, her head bowed. "Your grace-"

Jaime reached for Sansa, trying to stop her from drawing attention to herself, lest the girl decide to punish her as well as him. Jaime still wasn't entirely certain that Sansa would be spared, as she was his wife. Princess Elia was raped and murdered by the Mountain for no more than being Rhaeger's wife. Jaime would do anything to prevent that from happening to Sansa. It appeared the Targaryen girl saw that he was trying to silence Sansa and raised an eyebrow.

"Let her speak," Daenerys ordered. "I'd like to hear what it is you don't wish her to tell me." Jaime held Julianna, though he listened carefully to his wife's words. He could see that the girl expected Sansa to speak against him. _Perhaps Jon Snow assured her that his sister would never willingly be his lady wife._

"Your grace…I am Lady Sansa of Houses Stark and Lannister and…I beg you to show mercy on my husband, Ser Jaime Lannister. I beg you to…to spare his life. I understand if you don't wish us to remain here, in Westeros. We'll leave forever if you wish. He doesn't deserve to die. Jaime…he has done so much for the Realm. He has saved so many lives, though he took your father's. King Aerys was…he was mad, your grace. He hurt so many innocents...he hurt you mother and Jaime… tried to stop him. He wanted to stop him from…violating her. He wanted to protect her, but the other knights of the Kingsguard would not allow it."

Sansa looked at Ser Barristan and Jaime saw a glimpse of her desperation as she appealed to him to help them. "Please tell her, Ser Barristan. Have you told her what the King was like? What he did? Have you told her that you wouldn't allow Jaime to protect her mother, Queen Rhaella? Have you? Or have you simply blamed Jaime? He was only a boy. You were a man. You should have stood for the Queen, rather than allowing a monster to hurt her, just because he was king."

Jaime couldn't allow this to go on. Sansa was only going to anger the girl if she continued to speak of her father that way. Even if it was all true. "Sansa, please, stop," he whispered urgently, trying to bring her to her feet, though she resisted him. He looked at Lady Catelyn, trying to urge her to stop her daughter, but she seemed uncertain of what to do, her eyes continuing to dart toward Littlefinger with suspicion.

"Please, your grace, Jaime does not deserve to die. He did not betray the Realm. He didn't. I promise you. He saved it. If you would take his head then…you should go ahead and take mine as well."

"No!" Jaime would have no more of this madness from her and pulled her to her feet. "Look at our daughter," he whispered urgently. "She needs you. You can't allow her to be an orphan." She gently ran her hand down both his and the babe's faces. He knew what she was trying to do, but he'd not allow her to die because of some foolish hope of saving him.

"I can't allow her to lose you. She needs you," Sansa whispered, tears forming in her eyes. "Your grace, may I speak to you alone?" Sansa asked, raising her voice and turning from Jaime.

"No," Jaime whispered urgently. "Stop this."

"I would speak to Lady Sansa alone," Daenerys pronounced. "Take the Kingslayer to his chambers. He is to remain under guard while I speak to his lady wife."

"Your grace," Littlefinger interrupted. "The dungeons would be more appropriate for the man who committed such a grave crime as the killing of the true king."

"His rank should afford him more consideration." Jaime looked at Tyrion, surprised that he was intervening on his behalf. Especially after his betrayal. "He is a high-born lord. His rank entitles him to better than a dungeon regardless of his crimes."

"Take him to his chambers," Daenerys repeated, much to Littlefinger's ire. "For now. You may take the child with you, while I speak to Lady Sansa. Take the rest of the hostages to rooms, under guard, as well, while I speak to Lady Sansa. I'll decide what's to be done with them later." She looked at Ser Addam. "Take the Kingslayer's second-in-command to address his soldiers and inform them that they now serve Lord Tyrion."

Jaime wanted to refuse to allow the girl to speak to his wife without him present, but Jaime knew that he was powerless. He reluctantly allowed them to lead him away, leaving Sansa with the girl and her advisors, though he noticed Tyrion following after him, as he was led to his bedchamber. He couldn't imagine what his brother had to say to him after serving him up to the Targaryen Queen and allowing them all to be taken prisoner. Jaime glanced back at Sansa one more time and held Julianna tighter. _Don't do anything foolish, little wife. Our girl needs one parent to take care of her._

…

Once Jaime, and the rest of her family was led away, the Dragon Queen took a seat at the table in the great hall and gestured for Sansa to do the same, opposite her. Many of her black-clad soldiers were lined up behind the Queen and behind Sansa. She forced herself not to be scared. _I have to convince her to allow Jaime to live. I have to. I can't fail at this._Jon had left, after Sansa nodded that she would be all right. He had taken Arya's hand and walked with her as the Unsullied ushered them all away.

The Queen's two knights - Ser Barristan and Ser Jorah - flanked her and Littlefinger hovered in the corner. Sansa glanced at him fearfully, knowing that he had encouraged the Queen in her anger and hatred of Jaime. She had not forgotten her own experiences with Lord Baelish in King's Landing. He recalled how he had tried to convince her to leave with him - to leave Jaime. She recalled how he had deceived her - making her believe that he wished to help her when he really wished to take her for himself. _He had wanted me because I look like my mother._He leaned against the wall and watched her in a way that made her uncomfortable.

"Is it not possible for us to speak alone, your grace?" Sansa asked quietly, glancing at Littlefinger again.

"The wife of a traitor will not be trusted alone with the queen," Jorah Mormont pronounced, harshly. Sansa began to feel the old fear she'd felt in King's Landing return. When everyone had pronounced she and her family traitors. But Sansa quickly pushed it aside, knowing that the Lady of Casterly Rock could not show weakness. _Jaime is not a traitor. Nor am I._

"I only ask that…Lord Baelish leave us. He makes me uneasy and I would like to speak freely with you, your grace."

The queen followed Sansa's gaze and looked at Littlefinger, considering. "Leave us, please, Lord Baelish. Tell the rest of my men to make camp for the night." Sansa could see that he was not happy to be sent away, but he did not argue with her. He merely bowed and left them alone, as she had asked. "Now, _Lady Lannister_, what did you wish to say about your traitor husband?"

Sansa steeled herself, knowing how important it was that the queen change her mind about Jaime. "My husband is not a traitor, your grace."

"What do you call a man who swore to protect the king with his own life, and then killed him?"

"It depends on the reason. My father...he always said that a man must keep his vows. But, he never said what to do when it is impossible to keep all of your vows. Jaime…Ser Jaime Lannister was in the Kingsguard but he was also a knight. He swore to protect the weak and the innocent. He swore to protect the realm."

"If this is all you have to say –"

"King Aerys was going to burn King's Landing to the ground with wildfire. He had it hidden all over the city. And when the Lannister forces arrived, and sacked the city, he refused to allow Jaime - the only knight in the Kingsguard who remained with him - to negotiate a peace. Instead, he ordered him to bring back his father's head. And he ordered his pyromancers to burn the city - to burn every citizen in their beds and kill them all. Jaime had to stop him." She could see that the girl was listening to her, but Sansa didn't know if she would change her mind. "What would you have done, Ser Barristan? If you were in Jaime's place, would you have allowed King's Landing to burn? Just because of an oath? Would you have brought the King your father's head, if he asked for it? If she asked you to an unspeakable act…would you do it, just because she asked?"

The queen turned and looked at her knight, and Sansa could see that he was uncomfortable with her question. "Ser Jaime never told me of this," was all he said.

Sansa nodded. "I know. He says he kept it secret because he was sworn to keep the King's secrets but...I think, now that I know him, that he was too proud to offer explanations for what he'd done. He saw that my father and...I expect you as well, already believed that he had killed the King to benefit his family. He's never been one to make excuses for himself."

"So he sends you to do it for him?" the Queen asked, raising an eyebrow.

"I'm certain you saw that he would prefer if I didn't say anything to you. He's afraid that...I'll anger you and, you'll execute me as well."

The Queen met her eyes, and Sansa saw that she had kindness in her, beneath her hard exterior. Sansa wanted to ask her how she could burn the child she believed to be Tommen in the capitol, but she was too afraid to bring it up. "You needn't worry about that. I gave your brother my word that no harm would come to his sisters. He cares for his family very much."

Sansa nodded. "Your grace, if you execute Jaime...you would be harming me. I...If anyone has reason to hate the Lannisters, your grace, it is me."

"Yet you share a bed with the Kingslayer. You gave him an heir. And you beg for his life."

Sansa nodded. "I – I was not given a choice about marrying Ser Jaime. I was taken hostage when my father was imprisoned. First…I was to be wed to Joffrey. He was…cruel. He tormented me. He had me stripped and beaten by the Kingsguard. Weak men who blindly followed their king's every order," she said, speaking directly to Ser Barristan. "None of them had the courage to defy him. No one spoke out for me except Tyrion. I'll bear the scars from those beatings for the rest of my life. Before the Kingsguard...I'd never had a hand raised to me. I thought I was going to die there. At the hands of _honorable_ men, serving their king. It was only when Ser Jaime returned to King's Landing that the beatings stopped. He would not allow anyone to harm me. Not even the king."

"He was no king," she said sternly. "On our journey from the Wall, your brother spoke a great deal about you and your sister. He loves the both of you very much. Your brother told me that you would never have consented to this marriage to the Kingslayer. Which is why your defense of him surprises me."

Sansa forced herself not to react to her husband being called names, and instead, continued on, trying to make the Queen see how much she needed Jaime and that he was not a bad man. "My father was dead and the Lannisters had declared the rest of my family traitors. I was…a ward of the crown and they decided to wed me to Ser Jaime. Because Lord Tywin had planned to murder my brother, and wanted my claim to Winterfell."

The dragon queen nodded. "Jon told me of the death of your brother, Robb. If the Lannisters did all of that – why do you now defend the head of their house?"

"Because I love him," she said quietly. "I was afraid of him at first, when we were first betrothed and first married. I didn't mean to love him but…he was so kind to me. He protected me from them. I had been so weak for so long but when he draped his cloak about my shoulders…I began to grow strong. I knew that I didn't have to cower in fear, because Jaime would protect me. And then...we had our little girl. They love each other so much," Sansa said, tears beginning to well in her eyes. "I could see it, the moment she was born and he held her in his arms...I could see how he loves her. And he makes her feel so safe, your grace. He can quiet her tears better than I can. Please, your grace. Please don't take him from me. Don't take him from my daughter."

The queen seemed affected by her words. "You're not much older than I was when…when I was married to Khal Drogo. I did not chose that marriage either. Did someone tell you to speak to me this way?"

Sansa shook her head, wondering if she had said something wrong. "No, your grace. I simply...said what was in my heart. Please don't kill him. We'll leave here forever. You'll never have to see him again. Please. Just let him live…let us be together."

"I will think on what you've said, and make my decision tomorrow. You may stay with the Kingslayer and your child until tomorrow. I suppose…your rank entitles you to that. You'll be heavily guarded, so don't try to escape. Ser Barristan, you'll escort her?"

The queen turned and left the great hall then, many of her men falling into line behind her. Ser Barriston offered Sansa his arm. She looked at him with contempt for a moment before lightly resting his hand on his arm. They walked in silence.

"You'll have to lead the way, my lady. I'm not familiar with Casterly Rock."

"Certainly." She had no interest in speaking to this man who judged Jaime's actions – the actions of a young boy – when he had been a grown man and turned a blind eye as the Mad King raped his wife and burned people for his own amusement.

"I get the feeling your husband speaks ill of me."

"Not at all," Sansa said coolly. "He admires you a great deal."

"Then why do seem so angry with me. We've only ever met in passing, Lady Sansa. And I greatly admired your father. His death was a tragedy."

"I suppose I have little patience for those who allow a cruel monarch to brutalize the innocent. To rape his wife and burn my grandfather to death."

"I swore an oath my lady. As did Ser Jaime."

"You swore many oaths. I always admired knights. I always admired brave men. And, my father always taught me that honor was the most important quality in a man. But…did you really feel that you were honorable while watching my uncle and my grandfather die? I know Jaime did not. Did you feel honorable when you listened to the Mad King rape his queen? When you told Jaime that he was not to protect the queen from the King?"

He was silent for so long, Sansa did not think he intended to answer her. "No, my lady," he whispered. "I did not."

...

_Next chapter: Jaime and Tyrion speak privately_


	78. Chapter 78

_Warning: adult content towards the end_

_..._

Chapter 78

….

Jaime walked silently between the hoard of Unsullied that escorted him to his chambers. Escorted was a polite word for it, since they all knew he was a prisoner who was soon to be executed. He had to lead the way himself, since no one in his entourage, save Tyrion, knew the way to the Lord's chambers and his brother had not taken the lead. Tyrion continued to follow behind all of the Unsullied, confirming Jaime's belief that his brother wished to speak with him. _Though I can't imagine what more he could wish to say to me after his actions today._

He carried Julianna in his arms, and she held onto him tightly, looking fearfully at the strangers that had invaded their home. He entered his chamber and sat in a chair before the fire, watching as the Unsullied secured every entrance and exit, ensuring that Jaime could not escape. _As if I could attempt some daring escape with one hand and a baby in my arms._

His whole body screamed at him to put up a fight rather than doing as the Targaryen girl ordered. It wasn't in his nature to be compliant with an enemy – especially one that wanted him dead – but Jaime knew that she would be more likely to execute Sansa and Julianna along with him if he fought or tried to escape. _I'll sacrifice anything for Sansa. Even my life. I promised to protect her always, and that's what I mean to do._

Tyrion sat in the chair beside him, after stoking the fire, though Jaime ignored his brother in favor of quietly assuring Julianna that she was safe. He held her against his chest, rubbing her back to comfort her and stop her fearful whining. She was still a bit shaken by the stranger holding her hostage – not that she understood the implications – but she seemed to know that Sansa had been terrified by the soldier holding her. She had only begun to speak a few words, and repeated "dada" over and over against his shoulder.

"Shh…you're safe, little lioness. I love you, Julianna," he whispered in her ear, quietly, so no one else could hear. He didn't expect Sansa would succeed in changing his fate and he needed to prepare himself for what was to come. _ Julianna's even younger than I was when my mother died. I only have a few memories of Lady Joanna. __Jaime looked down at the babe in his arms. __She won't even remember me. _He continued to speak quietly to Julianna, ignoring everyone around him. He didn't know if she understood, but he wanted his daughter to know that he loved her. _Even if she doesn't remember me, Sansa will make sure she knows how much I loved her. _He wished that was enough, but it wasn't.

He felt Tyrion watching him with the babe, but Jaime didn't acknowledge his gaze. "You've learned to be a father," Tyrion remarked quietly, when they were finally alone. "I'm surprised. You never showed any interest. In the others."

"I could do without your company," Jaime murmured, his attention still on Julianna. Tyrion rose to his feet and Jaime thought he was leaving, before he noticed that Tyrion appeared to be searching the room. "What are you doing?"

"Making certain we're really alone. They tell me these Unsullied only speak High Valaryan, but I can't be too careful." Jaime finally turned away from Julianna, wondering what Tyrion was about. "Why are you even here with me? Shouldn't you be taking inventory of your new castle? Counting the silver and that sort of thing. Or perhaps you're here to look at what will be your new bedchamber…once I'm dead," Jaime ground out, placing Julianna on the ground. She remained close to him, holding onto his leg as she stood and regarded Tyrion curiously.

"A Lannister always pays his debts," Tyrion murmured. "That is what I promised you, last we spoke in King's Landing-"

Before Tyrion could finish, Jaime moved toward his brother and gripped his throat with his good hand, pressing him into the chair. "And I now owe you a debt brother. I could kill you now. I only need one hand to strangle the life out of you. Cersei could attest to that."

Tyrion struggled for breath as Jaime cut off his air. "You'd kill me in front of her?" Tyrion whispered, gesturing toward Julianna who was sitting on the fur in front of the fire.

"She won't remember it. Just like she won't remember me when she grows up, once your Khaleesi has her way." Jaime felt the same sadness and anger he'd felt at Cersei's betrayal. "I never believed you'd wish me dead."

"I don't," he whispered, looking at Jaime meaningfully. He loosened his grip, so Tyrion could speak, but kept his hand at his throat. "Thoughts of revenge were all that allowed me to survive when I left the capitol. Thoughts of raping our bitch of a sister while you watched, and then killing the both of you...it comforted me at night. Plotting my triumphant return to Westeros. I was going to make you all pay. Hate and revenge are powerful motivators. I admit, it did cheer me to hear Cersei was dead. My only regret is not having killed her with my own hand." Tyrion looked at Julianna, then back at Jaime and he saw a flash of the brother he remembered, rather than the hateful stranger claimed by the dragon. "I hated her and I hated our father and I don't regret their deaths but...I could never manage to truly wish you dead...I…try as I might, I couldn't seem to forget the kindness…the love you showed me all our lives. Save one moment that destroyed me."

Jaime sighed and sat back in his own chair, releasing his brother. "I wish I'd never told you the truth," he murmured quietly, smiling sadly at Julianna as she clumsily got to her feet and began trying to climb onto his chair to sit with him.

"You wish you'd never told me? You don't wish that you had not lied to me in the first place?"

Jaime sighed as he lifted Julianna onto his lap. "If I had not done as Father commanded…you would not have had a happy ending with Tysha. You must know that. He would have separated the two of you one way or another. But I spent my entire life, trying to make it up to you. I've always loved you. Always. And you would betray me for some mad Targaryen whelp."

"I suppose, in true Lannister fashion, we've betrayed and deceived one another."

"You're betrayal will _kill_ me. You say you don't wish me dead but that's what you've done. After a lifetime of loving you and protecting you from Cersei – from anyone who would try to harm you. All of that forgotten over a lie that I told when I was still a boy. A lie our father _ordered_ me to tell. I could not have foreseen what father would do. I never dreamed he would offer her up to his soldiers…and to you…as one of his sharp lessons."

Tyrion bristled at the reminder that he had joined in on Tysha's brutal rape, at his father's urging. "Your betrayal was more than that one lie, Jaime. You lied to me my whole life, as you saw what losing Tysha did to me. Every day you kept this secret from me was another lie you told me."

"After you came to me, crying, and told me what father did to her…and what you did to her, how could I tell you the truth? How? You kept saying that I was the only one who loved you. That I was all you had. I've wanted to tell you, so many times. Whenever I saw that you believed whores were the only women that would go to your bed, I wanted to tell you that you were wrong, that a woman had loved you without being given coin, but…I didn't want to lose my brother. And I thought you felt the same. But now it will end forever in a hail of dragon fire."

"I thought you didn't fear death."

"I don't. Not for myself. I fear what will become of Sansa and..." Jaime looked down at the babe in his arms and smoothed his hand over her bright red curls. "I fear all that I will miss. With Sansa and with her."

"So you've finally allowed yourself to love your wife."

Jaime returned Julianna's bright smile as she reached up and touched his face. "Losing my brother's love made me realize that I shouldn't take Sansa's love for granted. I'd lost the only other person who truly loved me when you left." He turned to his brother. "Well, Tyrion, you'll be the only one left, once your queen gets her vengeance on me. Mother, Father and Cersei are in the crypt already. I expect there will be nothing left of me to bury when her dragons have finished with me. Perhaps you could at least add my name to the stone."

"I've been meaning to ask...about Cersei. I heard of her death, all the way across the narrow sea. It seems Baelish has almost as many little birds as Varys did. News of a Queen's death travels quickly. Especially in times of war." Jaime leaned back in his chair, letting Julianna curl up on his chest as Tyrion continued. "Why did you kill her? After putting her first for so long?"

"An assassin sent by Stannis killed our sister. Did you not hear that across the narrow sea?"

Tyrion looked at his brother in disbelief. "We both know that's not what happened. Rather too covenient that an assassin would kill her here at the Rock. What happened? Did she harm Sansa?"

Jaime sighed. _I suppose it doesn't matter now if he hears the truth. _"She sent an assassin to rape and kill Sansa and...to kill the babe. Luckily he failed. Just barely." Tyrion nodded. "She sent red cloak she'd been fucking since before she married Robert…I never saw what she really was. I never realized that I was alone in my devotion to her. She got worse after you left. Paranoid and irrational. Since father...could not check her." Jaime kissed the top of Julianna's head. "I had hoped to see her grow up but…it seems I'm to be executed for what I always considered to be my finest act." Jaime had never told Tyrion why he'd killed the Mad King. He had only told Sansa. "Was there something else we needed to discuss? If not, I'd like to be alone with my daughter."

"Aren't you the least bit curious to hear how Littlefinger managed to get the ear of the dragon queen? He's the one pulling the strings now. Not me. Not her knights. Baelish would have burnt you to a crisp right there, as soon as he could take Sansa and her mother away from you."

"Why would she trust someone who served Robert for so long? The man she calls Usurper?"

Tyrion laughed. "By that logic, why would she trust me? I was Joffrey's Hand. I'm Tywin Lannister's son. Fortunate for me, she believes that I killed Joffrey and wishes to reward me with the Rock."

"Then she must be ecstatic over what you did to Father. What about Littlefinger? How did he earn her trust?"

"He got her across the narrow sea. She spent years in Slaver's Bay, dealing with their politics. Badly. Her foolish notions about freeing slaves so they would join her was…poorly thought out. She would have been stuck there for even more years if she continued with only Mormont and Selmy to advise her. They are soldiers, not political advisors. Baelish got her to Westeros. He helped her win against Stannis. She'll not turn away from his advice easily."

Jaime nodded. "He wants Sansa doesn't he?"

"Perhaps. In the short term. Honestly, I think he wants the Iron Throne. To be king. Daenerys will name him as her Hand and…if she continues to take his advice, the People will revolt. They'll unite against her. I expect that is when Baelish will make his move. It was at his insistence that the boy on the throne was burned. The smallfolk…she did not win their hearts or their trust with that act. She made them fear another mad Targaryen. When they learn of her actions here at the Rock – her trickery – she will alienate them further."

"Perhaps she's simply as mad as her father. He never cared what the smallfolk thought."

"She's not…She's not heartless. After the burning of the child she was visibly shaken when we returned to the palace. But Baelish continues to lead her down the wrong path."

"And you've not told her this? Warned her of his ambitions? Told her how many he has betrayed in the past?"

"I would only succeed in making an enemy of him. And possibly her. She won't listen. Not without proof of his treachery. You seem content in your life here with Sansa," Tyrion said, nodding toward the babe. Jaime looked down and saw that while Julianna was resting her head against Jaime's chest, she was watching Tyrion intently and smiling shyly. "She has sweet disposition…must take after her mother," Tyrion said dryly.

Jaime was in no mood for such pleasantries. "You said you don't wish me dead…do you plan to stop her or were those empty words?"

"I'll think of something, Jaime. You need to trust me."

Jaime laughed bitterly. "How can I trust you? After what you did today? After a sword was held to her throat because of you?"

"I didn't know Baelish told them to do that. I didn't even know you'd had a child with Sansa. I wasn't…in any state of mind to hear about your life after I fled the Realm. Jon Snow...he tried many times to speak to me about your marriage to Sansa but I refused to even hear your name. I didn't wish to participate in Littlefinger's treachery but…had I not agreed to his plan, what do you think would have happened? Just as you say you could not have stopped father from separating me from Tysha…I'm not in any position to stop Daenerys nor her dragons."

"I've accepted my fate, Tyrion. I don't need false promises. I don't expect anyone to change the girl's mind. Not you. And not Sansa."

"Whatever you think of me Jaime…after today and after…Lord Tywin…I do love the family I have left. Despite your considerable faults. Don't mistake me - I've not forgiven you but...I'm not ready to see what remains of my family dead, either. Speaking of family…where have you hidden young Tommen?"

Jaime looked Tyrion over carefully, not willing to trust him completely. Not whecould would soon face death because of Tyrion's actions. He knew this entire conversation could be a trick. To gain his trust and learn Tommen's whereabouts. Jaime reminded himself of how clever Tyrion could be. "You know better than I what became of him, when your Khaleesi punished him for his parents' sins."

"You've gained caution, Jaime. I suppose you're right not to trust me. Yet. I certainly would not." He rose to his feet so Jaime could be alone with Julianna. "I can't promise you anything but…I will do all I can to convince her that your permanent exile would secure her place on the throne."

Jaime nodded to himself after Tyrion left and wondered if he should trust his brother or if the man who tricked him into his current state of imprisonment was the real Tyrion.

…

Not long after Tyrion left, the chamber door opened and Sansa entered, escorted by Ser Barristan. He could see that she was relieved to be reunited with him, even after such a short separation. _She needs to prepare herself for what's to come. We're about to face a much more permanent separation. _She hurried over to him, throwing herself into Jaime's arms, and he could fear her tears against his neck. _Perhaps the Mad Queen's already refused to show any mercy._ Jaime stroked her hair and held her tightly, looking at Selmy with a hard expression. "What did the girl do to her?"

"She listened to what your lady wife had to say. Which is more than you deserve. She'll make her decision tomorrow as to your…sentence." Jaime nodded, not holding much hope as to what the girl's decision would be. "You are married and, given your rank, she's agreed to allow the two of you to remain here together, with your child. You're entitled to the comfort of your wife's company." Jaime nodded, stroking her hair. "Lady Sansa?"

She turned and regarded the old knight. "I will speak to her. About our conversation. Your father…he would wish for me to speak on your behalf." Sansa nodded before turning back to Jaime, who was wondering what on earth she had said to the former Lord Commander._  
_

Once they were alone, Sansa tilted her head up and met his eyes. "Have you found a way out of here?" she whispered. "Perhaps the secret room?"

"The Unsullied secured it. And any other way out of here."

"Is there another secret exit. There must be a way out. There were not too many guards outside. Perhaps…we could fight them and-"

"We?" he asked with a raised eyebrow.

"I'll help you. Whatever I can do, I'll do it. I promise. Anything. We have to get out of here. I don't wish to risk the Queen refusing to show mercy."

He could see that she was working herself up into a state. "Sansa, let's not waste…the time we have together with plans that are doomed to fail."

"What's wrong with you?" she asked, tears forming in her eyes. "You're giving up. Why are you giving up? Where is your fight, Jaime? You have to fight. For me. Please. This isn't you. You don't give up and you don't accept your fate. You fight. That's who you are."

Sansa was shaking and crying as she urged him to do something.

"If you won't save yourself, then I will do it for you." She began to move toward the door and Jaime grabbed her around the waist, holding her against him as she cried and struggled. "There must be a way out. Jaime, please."

"Stop, stop," he held her arms, restraining her as she struggled against him. "Shh…please, Sansa."

"Why is there no fight in you, Jaime? Of all times. I can't…I can't lose you, Jaime. I can't."

Jaime forced her to sit on the bed, holding onto her and resting his head on her shoulder. "You need to stay calm, Sansa." He looked over and saw tears welling in Julianna's eyes at her mother's obvious distress. He held his hand out to her and she clumsily toddled over, holding her arms up until Jaime lifted her onto his lap. She gripped the both of them tightly, beginning to whine.

"I'm sorry…I'm sorry," she whispered, kissing the top of Julianna's head. He saw her forcing herself to be calm, for the sake of the baby. He closed his eyes as Sansa leaned into his chest, caging Julianna between them. "I can't lose you, Jaime. I can't lose this," she whispered against his neck. "I meant what I said. If she…kills you. Then she should kill me as well."

He wanted to shake her and yell at her for even suggesting such a thing but he knew she was terrified. "Sansa. You must not say such things. Even if…she does not show mercy, you have to go on. Julianna needs her mother."

"She needs you, too." The babe curled up in Jaime's arms, her little fingers tightly gripping the fabric of his tunic, as if she were stopping someone from pulling them apart. Jaime sat back on the bed and Sansa had curled up next to him as he spoke to Julianna, telling her how much he loved her. He was trying to remain strong for them, but he couldn't stop his voice from breaking at the thought of losing his wife and child. He had hoped Sansa wouldn't notice, but he felt her rest her hand on the back of his neck, her thumb rubbing soft circles on the back of his neck to comfort him as he calmed their daughter.

Once the babe fell asleep, Jaime rose to his feet, carrying Julianna across the room to her crib. "You won't…keep her with us tonight?" he heard Sansa ask softly.

He smiled sadly, gently placing her in the crib before turning back to his wife. "I just want you, first."

He saw her face crumble, as he sat on the bed beside her. Neither of them said it, but they both knew this could be the last time they would be together. He gently touched her cheek, holding her still as he leaned in to kiss her. He closed his eyes, breathing in her scent as he rested his head against her forehead.

"Promise me, something, Sansa."

"What?"

"Don't let them defeat you. Whatever happens…you must find the strength to endure this. You are so strong. Even stronger than you think you are. You can't give up. Promise me."

"I promise," she said, her eyes filling with tears. He kissed her again before moving He behind her and brushing her hair aside, kissing the back of her neck. As he slowly unlaced her gown, Jaime rested his head against the back of her neck, his arm with the golden hand wrapped around her waist.

He slowly removed her clothing, touching and kissing every inch of her that he uncovered. _I'll need this memory of her to go away inside. I'll need her to get through the pain ahead._ She helped him lift her shift over her head, revealing her perfect breasts to his gaze. He felt her stroking his hair as he leaned forward to rest his head between her breasts, closing his eyes and wishing that he could make everything stop. Wishing he could die right there in her arms. _I'll think of her as I die. Only her. I will die in her arms._

His eyes moved over her breasts, watching his hand cup one of them, his fingers teasing her nipple. Jaime began kissing her breasts and heard her breath catch. He looked up and saw tears running down her face and shook his head. "Don't cry," he whispered, gently kissing away her tears. "Don't cry, sweet girl."

She nodded bravely, wrapping her arms around his neck and holding him tightly as he rubbed her back, relishing the feel of her silky skin beneath his hand. He slid his hand inside the back of her small clothes, gently caressing her arse before stripping off her last piece of clothing. Once she was naked, he waited, and just looked at her body, knowing she would want the chance to similarly explore his body. To memorize him as he had memorized her.

She crouched between his knees and gently ran her fingers down the side of his face, nuzzling against his neck as she gently kissed the shell of his ear. "I love you so much, Jaime," she whispered.

Her hands had moved to the front of his tunic, as she began removing his clothes. He helped her along, raising his arms as she stripped him to the waist. She covered his mouth with her own, and he couldn't resist returning her kiss with passion, though he had every intention of moving slowly. Jaime wrapped his arm around her waist, sighing into her mouth at the feel of her nipples against his bare chest. She eased him back until he was lying on the bed, looking up at her as she straddled his waist.

_Gods, she's so beautiful._ He watched her face as she gently traced her fingers over his chest, the pads of her thumbs rubbing over his nipples. He began petting her hair as she kissed his chest, her hands moving down over the muscles of his stomach. His breath caught as she began unlacing his breeches. He closed his eyes in utter bliss as her hand closed around his length. He loved feeling her hands on his body. _She thinks I've given up but she's wrong. I'd do anything to be with her forever. But I won't risk her life to save my own._

Once she's removed his breeches and smallclothes, Jaime sat up, gently shifting her onto her back. He leaned over her, doing nothing more than studying her face for a long moment. His vision clouded and he felt her thumb brush under his cheek as she wiped away the tears he had not realized he had shed. He shook his head and looked away from her to get his emotions under control. Sansa reached out and turned his face back to her.

"You don't have to be brave for me," she whispered, her voice breaking as she pulled him down for a kiss. He forced his mind to shut off – at least for a while – as he lost himself in kissing her. _Right now…we're the only two people on earth who matter._

Jaime focused on Sansa and desire quickly took the place of pain and fear as he felt her long legs wrap around his body. _Remember every moment of this_. Sansa pressed her tongue against his lips, and Jaime kissed her as if it were the last time. Jaime had to force himself to slow down, not wishing to rush his time with her. He smiled at Sansa's little chirps of pleasure as his mouth moved to her neck and down to her breasts. She threaded her fingers through his hair as he suckled on her breasts, though he continued moving lower until he crouched between her thighs. He needed to taste her, not wanting to forget a single thing about her. She gasped as his mouth closed over her and his tongue began teasing her pleasure spot.

He was already hard with need and want, but the sounds she was making only pushed him further toward the edge of desire. "Come for me, Sansa," he murmured against her as he continued working her with his mouth, his good hand stroking her hip. She began panting his name as pleasure overtook her. He scarce gave her the chance to catch her breath before he sheathed himself inside her and groaned in pleasure.

Sansa wrapped legs around his waist again and moved her hands to his shoulders. Jaime kissed her forehead and her nose, before moving to her lips. "I love you," he murmured against her lips as he slowly moved inside of her. She smiled sadly and brushed his hair back off his forehead as she returned the sentiment. He closed his eyes and buried his face in her hair, enjoying the feel of being completely enveloped by her. He moved to look into her eyes as his orgasm took over. She held him tightly as his body shook and he moaned her name.

He didn't know how much time passed as they lay in each other's arms after, exchanging soft kisses and running their hands over each other's bodies. Jaime was reluctant to spoil their time in each other's arms, but he needed to talk to her. He needed to be certain that she would not do something foolish when the Targaryen girl pronounced her decision.

"Sansa," he whispered, kissing her temple. "You need to prepare yourself for tomorrow." She stiffened in his arms as he spoke and he held her tighter, trying to reassure her. "I know you did all you could to change her mind, sweet girl, but, I don't expect she will show me any mercy."

She shook her head, laying across his chest and meeting his eyes. "I don't believe that, Jaime. She listened to me. I told her how much I love you and how…" He stroked her hair as she began to cry. "We haven't had enough time together," she whispered, looking down at his chest, as her tears landed on his skin.

He laughed softly and tilted her face up to him. "Even if we had fifty years together…it wouldn't be enough for me." Sansa hugged him tightly and rested her head on his shoulder. Neither of them slept at all that night, because they didn't want to miss a moment together. The morning still came far too soon.

…

_I know that was a lot of drama at the end...I may have shed a tear or two writing it :) I think the Jaime/Tyrion dynamic will be interesting if they ever meet again in the books and I wanted to explore that. Tyrion has a lot of anger towards Jaime, but he was also the one person Tyrion could truly count on and I don't think the love between them would just disappear._

_I struggled a lot with how Jaime would behave as a prisoner in this situation. If he didn't have Sansa & Julianna, I believe he would fight (and probably die doing so, with sword in hand) but he's in a very different situation than he's ever been in. Jaime actually has people he cares about more than himself and I think he would cooperate if he thought it could save him. Of course, reasonable minds may differ on that._

_Next Chapter: Daenerys tells Jaime his fate_

….


	79. Chapter 79

_A little something to get everyone through the lack of a new episode this week…_

…

Chapter 79

Late the next morning, Sansa and Jaime were escorted to the Great Hall by ten Unsullied, who walked silently beside them, staring straight ahead. They seemed so unnatural and unfeeling, and it made Sansa even more uneasy than any other soldiers would. When they reached the Great Hall, Sansa realized that the Dragon Queen was using it as a makeshift throne room, while her party was at Casterly Rock.

Sansa forced herself to remain calm as they waited for the Queen. She held Jaime's hand and held Julianna in her free arm. The babe clutched her tightly and looked around the room, no doubt just as frightened as Sansa was. _I wonder if she's thinking about what happened to her the last time we were in this room. _Sansa had never been as terrified as when her baby was being held with a blade to her throat. Julianna smiled a bit when she saw Lady Catelyn, and relaxed in Sansa's arms.

Sansa leaned against Jaime, and silently prayed that she had succeeded in convincing the Queen to spare his life. It seemed that the young queen had listened as Sansa poured out her heart to the girl who was only a few years older than she. And Ser Barriston had promised to speak to her as well. Jaime had told her that Tyrion said he would try to help them as well, but she didn't believe it, after his betrayal.

She and Jaime had stayed up together all night. She had fought the urge to sleep, because she had not wanted the morning to come any sooner. She had not wanted to sacrifice one moment that they could spend together to sleep. There were so many things she wanted to tell Jaime but she was afraid that if she started to say them – if she started to say goodbye or act as if he were about to die – it would make it come true. Instead she had spent the night kissing him and cuddling in his arms, hoping they had not made love for the last time.

Sansa knew that she would not be able to say goodbye to him if the worst were to happen. She loved him so much and knew that she would never love anyone else. _Even if I never see him again, he will always be part of me. _She couldn't even begin to consider what would become of her or Julianna if Jaime was killed. _Jaime is the one who has made me safe. I won't lose him and go back to being helpless and at the mercy of a cruel monarch._

The Queen was not yet in the Great Hall, though Lady Catelyn, Arya, Edmure and Roslin were. They seemed just as anxious and uncertain about their futures as Sansa and Jaime were. Ser Addam was also in the Throne Room, though he was no longer Jaime's second-in-command. He and all of the other red cloaks now served Tyrion. She knew that Jaime had told Ser Addam to surrender to the Queen and to serve Tyrion, though his childhood friend was not happy about it. She knew that he would have fought against the dragon queen if Jaime had wished it.

Arya stood next to Jon, her hand resting on Ghost's head. The sight of the direwolf made her miss Lady all the more. _That was the moment when I should have known that Joffrey and Cersei were evil. I should not have trusted them after that. _Sansa wondered if Jon was friends with the Queen. He was not here as her prisoner, that much she could tell. She had not spoken to him for more than a few moments, but she hoped that he had done as she asked, and spoken to the Queen about pardoning Jaime.

"Are you all right?" her mother asked, looking warily at the many soldiers surrounding them.

Sansa nodded. "I'll be fine once the Queen lets us leave for the Free Cities. Once I know that Jaime is safe." She saw her mother look away from her and Sansa knew that she didn't believe the Queen would pardon Jaime. "Mother? Do you know…does she plan to free all of you?"

"Jon told your sister that he does not believe she will harm either of you...or me. It does help that the Lannisters are holding us hostage. Jon said that we would likely stay here at Casterly Rock for a time. There's nowhere else safe for us until the war has ended and all have accepted the girl as Queen of the Seven Kingdoms. Of course…we'll have to bend the knee to the Targaryen." Sansa looked at her mother with worry. She knew that her mother still hated the Targaryens for killing Brandon Stark.

"Put aside your feelings, my lady, and do what is necessary to avoid the girl's wrath," Jaime said quietly. "If not for your own sake…swallow your anger and ensure that your daughters are protected." Her mother said nothing, but she seemed to be in agreement with Jaime's sentiment.

Sansa moved closer to Jaime when Littlefinger and Tyrion entered the Great Hall, standing before the windows as they awaited the Queen. Sansa felt her heart skip a beat as she looked at Tyrion, who would not look at her or at Jaime. A few moments later the Queen made her entrance. Sansa then looked to the Queen and searched her gaze, hoping for some clue about her decision, but her face remained expressionless. Ser Barristan and Ser Jorah Mormont stood on either side of her as she simply looked over those who had been gathered together at her command, before her eyes focused on Jaime.

"Kneel before me, Kingslayer, and hear my decision." Before Jaime could comply or refuse, Littlefinger nodded and one of the Unsullied shoved him to his knees before the Queen and her advisors.

_Oh, gods. This is just like with Father. This is what the Kingsguard did to Father when they killed him._Sansa turned and pressed Julianna into her mother's arms. "What are you doing?" she whispered urgently as Sansa turned away from her and knelt beside Jaime.

"Don't do this, Sansa," he whispered.

"Why do you kneel before me, Lady Sansa?" the Queen asked, looking at her intently.

"Because, your grace, when you decide my lord husband's fate, you decide mine as well."

The Queen's gaze returned to Jaime. "Your lady wife spoke very movingly of her love for you. A love a man like you doesn't deserve."

"I agree," he said quietly. "I don't deserve her…but I love her more than anything." Sansa took his hand and willed herself not to cry.

"What Lady Sansa said about my father, King Aerys, and what occurred before you murdered him – that was all true?"

Jaime met the eyes of the queen. "Every word." Sansa could see that the Queen believed him, even if she did not wish to. She looked down at her hands and was silent for a long moment before raising her head to address them again.

"It was suggested to me that exiling you to the North would appease the citizens of Lannisport, and the Westerlands, and make them more accepting of Lord Tyrion as Lord of Casterly Rock. But I cannot ignore such a great act of treason. You swore to protect my father, and then ran him through with your sword. If I were to pardon you, I would show my people that I am weak. There are those who think I have a gentle heart, because I am a woman. They are wrong. You will return with us to the capitol, Kingslayer, and face the same fate as your bastard we found sitting on my throne. When the people see you burn, they will-"

"No! Please don't do take him from me! Please! Let us leave the Realm. We won't ever come back, I promise you."

She heard Arya cry out as well. "You can't kill him! I won't let-" Her outburst was abruptly cut off by Jon's hand over her mouth.

Sansa stared down at the ground and felt as if she were reliving her father's execution all over again as Jaime wrapped his arm around her, trying to give her some comfort. While he still could. _Why will no one do anything to stop this? __She looked at Ser Barristan and Jon and Tyrion – who were visibly uncomfortable with what was happening.__ They all know this is wrong._ She barely heard the Queen's next words, though she heard Jaime's reaction.

"I will spare the lives of your lady wife, and your child. Lord Baelish is to serve as my Hand, and he needs a wife. He has agreed to wed the Lady Sansa."

"Don't do this to her. Don't punish her for my sins. Sansa has done nothing to you that warrants a forced marriage to a man she hates. A man who betrayed her family and led to her father's wrongful execution." Sansa could hear the controlled rage in his voice.

"How dare you try to command me? This is not a punishment, Kingslayer. She will be the wife of the most powerful man in the Realm. Anyone would consider this a good march for her, as it is to be her second marriage."

Sansa started shaking her head and glanced over at Littlefinger who was watching her closely.

"Lord Baelish has also generously agreed that Lady Sansa may keep the child with her. Though I cannot allow the babe to know that the Kingslayer was her father. I'll not have her raised to believe that her father was a martyr or a hero. From this moment forward, she will be known as Julianna Hill – not Lannister. Lady Sansa, you will never to speak to her of her father. Or she'll be sent to foster far from the capitol and far from you."

_How can she do this to us after all I told her?_"Please, your grace, don't do this to me. To us. Please."

"You will learn to love again. You and I have both been married to men we did not love, and we both learned to love our husbands. You will do so again."

"I could never love that monster," she spat, forgetting all propriety. Sansa didn't care about being a lady, as she thought about what her courtesy had gotten her in the past. What her courtesy had gotten her now. She'd been polite and obedient to Joffrey and Cersei and been repeatedly beaten and humiliated for her troubles. She'd knelt before the queen and begged for mercy, and now her husband was to be executed while she was forced to marry Littlefinger. _I'll not go along quietly this time. Not ever again._

Sansa heard her mother's angry voice behind her, hissing at Jon. "You call yourself her brother, and you allow this to happen?"

"Silence," the Queen ordered. "I've not finished, Lady Stark. And you'd do best to thank Lord Commander Snow for your life and the lives of your daughters. I agreed, in recognition of the great bravery he has shown in protecting the Realm from the White Walkers, to spare all of your lives."

"Jaime fought the White Walkers, too. He and his men. He nearly died doing so. But you don't care about that."

The Queen ignored Sansa's words. "You may have heard that Lord Tyrion will remain here as Lord of Casterly Rock, and you and your younger daughter will remain here as his guests, for the time being. Once the rebellion in the North has been quelled and a new Lord installed at Winterfell-"

"Only a Stark can hold Winterfell," Sansa said, through her tears.

The Queen gave her a hard look. "I'll forgive your outburst this time since you are obviously distressed. I was told that you had greater courtesy."

Sansa wanted to respond with the venom she felt but Jaime squeezed her hand. "Think of Julianna," he whispered quietly.

Sansa remained quiet and the Queen continued. "Lord and Lady Tully will also remain here for the time-being. Lord Baelish will no longer be Lord of Harrenhal. He deserves better than a ruin as repayment for his service to me. He shall instead be Lord of Riverrun, once it is reclaimed from those who hold it now."

"Riverrun belongs to the Tullys. You cannot kill or imprison the lords and ladies of every great house in the Realm. The smallfolk will rebel against it. Why should our keep be given to the likes of him?" her mother snarled, looking at Littlefinger.

"Cat…We were always the closest of friends. I don't understand this hostility from you or your daughter. I believe your father would approve of this. Lord Hoster did always love me as a son. And I consider Riverrun to be my childhood home. It is…filled with happy memories."

"You'll never be accepted by the smallfolk or my bannermen. And you kid yourself if you truly believe my father loved you as a son. After what you did to Lysa, you're lucky to have your head," Edmure added, looking between Littlefinger and the queen in disbelief, though neither seemed to care what Edmure had to say.

"The people of the Riverlands _will_ accept me as their liege lord. Especially when they see who I have chosen as my lady wife." Sansa shivered as his eyes moved over her. "She is the very picture of what the Lady of Riverrun should look like. With any luck, our children will inherit her Tully looks and the smallfolk _will_ accept my son as their lord."

Sansa could take it no more. "Your grace, if this is what you would do, please take me too. Kill me too. Please," she screamed as the Queen walked from the Great Hall, never looking back at Sansa as her knights followed her. She felt Jaime pull his arm from her grasp as he lunged toward Littlefinger, punching him square in the face with the golden hand and sending him sprawling across the stone floor.

"Take him away," Littlefinger ordered, rising to his feet and wiping the blood from his mouth.

Sansa ran to Jaime, pushing between the Unsullied and wrapping her arms around him, as the translator repeated Littlefinger's order. "Stay away from him! Leave us alone!" She refused to let go of him, though the soldiers began to pull them apart.

Jaime leaned forward and kissed her, wrenching his arm away from the Unsullied to hold her against him as he kissed her thoroughly. "I love you more than anything, Sansa. You have made me a better man, even if only for a short while. I wouldn't trade a second with you, sweet girl. Not for anything. Don't ever forget that."

"I love you, too, Jaime," she managed through her tears, tightening her grip on him as the Unsullied tried to separate them. "I'll only ever love you."

Jaime began speaking low in her ear. "Be brave, Sansa. You are so much stronger than you think. You must be brave and go on without me. For Julianna."

Sansa began kicking at the soldiers who tried to pull them apart, sobbing as she held onto Jaime. "Leave us alone," she sobbed, as Littlefinger furiously yelled for the soldiers to take Jaime away.

She heard Arya yelling as well. "Leave my sister alone!"

"Sansa, you have to let him go," Jon said behind her, his hands resting on her arms. "You're making this harder on yourself. On both of you."

"No! Let go of me!" Sansa screamed and fought as Jon managed to pull her away from Jaime. "No! Let go of me! How can you help her? How can you do this?"

She began sobbing as Jaime was taken to the dungeons. Once he was gone from view she turned and wrenched herself out of Jon's grasp and lunged viciously at Tyrion, though Ser Addam reached her before she could inflict any injury.

"Stop. Jaime wouldn't want you to do this." She continued struggling until she felt him press a dagger against the small of her back. She looked at him in question, as he carefully slid it into her pocked. "Should anyone try to harm you," he whispered in her ear. "You must prepare to fight. This is not over, I promise you."

Sansa nodded, and stopped struggling, allowing Ser Addam to lead her away from Tyrion and back to her mother. "Sansa," her mother began softly, but Sansa shook her head and reached for Julianna, holding her tightly in her arms.

She didn't want to hear any words of comfort. _Nothing can comfort me now._ She didn't understand why the Queen was being so cold and unfeeling. She not only planned to execute her husband, but she also wanted to make certain that his daughter never knew anything about him. Sansa looked down at Julianna and kissed her forehead. The babe looked up at her with those glittering green eyes and Sansa saw nothing but Jaime.

She repeated Ser Addam's words over and over in her head. _This is not over._

…

Jaime sat on the floor of the smallest, darkest, dankest cell at the bottom of the Rock. He wondered if Tyrion had directed them to the worst possible accommodations for a prisoner. It made the pen Robb Stark kept him in seem luxurious. The Northern lords were in much finer cells than Jaime was. This dungeon was partially open to the elements, which was fine in summer, but it was winter and Jaime was freezing as the cold air and snow blew through the cavern. He didn't care for himself, though. He could only think about Sansa and worry about what would happen to her after he was dead.

When he saw the Targaryen girl's face and the way Tyrion refused to meet his eyes, Jaime knew that the girl would show him no mercy. He had expected all three of them to be sentenced to death – he, Sansa and Julianna. Now, he worried that Sansa would prefer death to a forced marriage to Baelish. When the girl had made her grand pronouncements – playing with their lives as if they were nothing more than her dolls – Jaime had wanted nothing more than to plunge his sword into her back. To kill her, as he had killed her father.

_Addam will help Sansa. I know that he'll help her. If there's any way to get Sansa and Julianna out of here, he will find it._ He silently wished that Sansa would not lose hope. It had torn at his heart to hear her scream and cry as he was dragged from her grasp and down to the dungeons. _I promised to protect her always, and now she'll be alone in the world._

Jaime was grateful that no one had located Tommen. The smiths were far beneath anyone's notice. Tyrion would simply inherit them along with the rest of the Rock. If Tommen were found, Jaime knew he'd likely die by dragonfire alongside Jaime. Though Sansa likely would be unable to get to the child, Lady Alys and her husband would keep him safe and hidden, as would the remainder of the staff, until Ser Addam could get him somewhere safe. _I promised Tommen that we would all leave here together. I suppose that's yet another promise I'll have broken._

"There's nothing more pathetic than a once fierce lion, locked in a cage," a mocking voice said from the darkness.

Jaime looked up and saw Peter Baylish light a torch and stand in front of his cell. It did cheer him a bit to see the bruises forming on his smug face.

"I do hope to leave for the capitol soon. For your execution. I very much look forward to my wedding…and sharing my bed with Sansa. I would have preferred her to come to me as a maiden, but I suppose it's to my benefit that she's already been taught to please a man. It will save me a great deal of trouble." Jaime felt nothing but hate for this man who planned to rape his wife under the guise of a forced marriage. "We will have to wait a year to have a child – I can't have anyone believe my child is really yours. I'll be certain the maester brews Sansa a supply of moon tea. I don't intend to neglect my husbandly duties."

"You really want a woman who hates you?"

"It doesn't much matter what Sansa feels. She'll comply. After all…I'll have her daughter under my control. _Your daughter_. Not that the child will know anything of you. I do hope she grows up to be just as beautiful as her mother. It's something to look forward to."

Jaime rose to his feet and walked toward the bars. "I should think the events of the past few years should have shown you how quickly fortunes can change. You won't stay on top for long. And the higher you climb, the harder the fall will be. I daresay your fall will be hard enough to kill you."

"Now that I've achieved all I've ever wanted…no one will take it away from me. Certainly not a dead man. Which is what you are." Baelish smiled creepily. "You know, Sansa very nearly had the Queen convinced to allow you to leave with her and the babe for the Free Cities. Sansa has learned to play the game rather well. Sansa will be...quite valuable as my lady wife."

Jaime wished he had the power to kill the loathsome man before him. "Daenerys was even considering Tyrion's suggestion of exiling you to the North – to rebuild the ruin Winterfell has become. I warned her back in Slaver's Bay that a Lannister could not be trusted, but she took a fancy to your brother. Just like she did to Stannis Baratheon's little brat. Luckily, I was able to stop her from making such a _foolish_ mistake as to allow you to live. Sansa belongs with me…in King's Landing. She will help me rise even higher."

"You'd best remember, Baelish, that a Lannister pays his debts. And I owe you a powerful one. I may not be able to pay it myself, but make no mistake – you will suffer for this," Jaime snarled through the bars, though Littlefinger only laughed as he left the dungeon.

"I believe I should like to visit with my betrothed now. It's since over a year since I've spoken with her...privately."

"Leave her alone, Baelish!" Jaime shouted, brutally kicking and punching and wrenching at the bars. Though he knew he was wasting his effort - he'd never succeed in breaking them - he would rather injure himself trying, than do nothing to protect Sansa.

…

_Hang in there everyone. This was a tough chapter for Jaime and Sansa, but there's more still to come. (You can't really think I would leave Jaime and Sansa in this misery…but I can't make it too easy, either.) As always, thank you for all of the reviews and for continuing to read. It may move slowly at times, but that's mainly to allow for some character development between the action of the story. I appreciate everyone who has been reading and enjoying this story from the beginning, as well as those of you who have just discovered the story, and begun the daunting task of starting a nearly 80 chapter story._

_Next Chapter: Littlefinger learns that Sansa is not nearly as compliant as he had hoped_


	80. Chapter 80

_Warning (without giving too much of the chapter away): there will be non-consensual contact (not rape) in this chapter & some violence, so if that's difficult for you to read, you may want to skim parts of this chapter. That said, I think you will all appreciate how it turns out._

...

Chapter 80

After Jaime was taken away and Ser Addam convinced her to calm herself, Sansa stood in the Great Hall, rocking Julianna in her arms with her head bowed, so no one could see her face. Though she had stopped yelling and attacking those who were associated with the Queen, Sansa could not stop her tears, silently crying for Jaime and for herself. Lord Baelish had stormed off in a rage, blood dripping from his nose, leaving Tyrion to deal with the Queen's hostages. It was a bit uncomfortable, since everyone present was openly hostile to him – blaming his betrayal of Jaime's trust for their current situation.

"Sansa," he began, quietly approaching her.

"Don't speak to me," she hissed. Her rage controlled, but palpable. "Jaime is going to be killed because the Queen thinks he has no honor, but what of you? You killed your own father. And now you've helped to kill your brother. You could have helped him but you didn't. You took advantage of his love for you to allow them to take the castle and take him prisoner. Jaime should have let you die." She took a deep breath and wiped her eyes. "May I leave now?"

"Where would you like to go, my lady?" he asked patiently.

"Where would I _like_ to go? I'd like to go to the Free Cities with my husband. I'd even like to go to the dungeons with him, but I know you won't even grant me that."

"_The Queen_ won't allow it. I'll have you taken to your chambers. You should get some rest and…it will allow you some privacy."

"My chambers? My chambers are the lord's chambers. Aren't you Lord of Casterly Rock, now that you've helped _your_ queen take Jaime prisoner and sentence him to death?"

"You and the babe will remain in the lord's chambers until the royal party leaves for King's Landing tomorrow evening. Perhaps the ladies would be willing to stay with Lady Lannister for the night?" he asked hesitantly, looking at her mother and sister and Roslin. Sansa nearly began sobbing anew when she heard herself called Lady Lannister. _No one will ever call me that again._

It was all she could do not to shout at the expressionless soldiers that served the queen as they escorted her back to her bedchamber, though she did slam the door in their faces. Sansa refused all offers of company and comfort, begging her mother, Arya and Roslin to go to her own bedchamber for the night, which adjoined the one she shared with Jaime.

"Please leave me alone. I don't…I don't wish to speak to anyone."

"Let me stay with you," Arya said, sitting on the bed beside Sansa. "I won't talk at all. I promise."

Catelyn took Arya's hand and urged her to leave Sansa "for a while." She noted her mother's words and knew they would not allow her the solitude she desired for very long. She wished she could hide away in a corner with Julianna and not have to see or speak to anyone ever again. _At least mother knows that I need some time to myself. How did she survive when she heard the news of father's execution?_

Once she was alone Sansa put the baby on the ground and removed the dagger Ser Addam had placed in the pocket of her gown. She had thought it strange when Jaime had insisted that she wear this particular gown today - it was Lannister red silk and more suited to a feast - but now she understood. It was one of the few gowns she owned with pockets in the skirt. The Unsullied had removed everything from the chamber that could be used as a weapon. _He must have planned for Ser Addam to give me this. He knew he would not be pardoned. _The dagger appeared well-made and quite sharp - Valeryian steel with a jeweled handle. She stuck it under her pillow. _I should give it to Arya. She will know how to use it better than I._

She walked into Jaime's closet. She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply, smelling the male scent that had come to be a comfort to her. She picked up the tunic he had worn the night before and sat on the floor of the closet, surrounded by all of Jaime's belongings. _I wonder if I'll be able to keep something of his. __She resigned herself to the reality that they would not allow it. If she wanted something of Jaime's, she would have to hide it.__ They want me to pretend that he never existed. That he was never my husband. That I never loved him._She knew they could never control what was in her mind and in her heart. _I will always love Jaime. I will only love Jaime._

Sansa heard squealing from the doorway. "Ma…mama…"

Sansa smiled and wiped her tears before holding her arms out for Julianna who smiled and clumsily walked over to Sansa, climbing onto her lap. "My sweet baby." Sansa pulled Julianna against her and leaned back against the wall of the closet. "I love you. And your father loves you, sweetling. He loves you so much. I don't care what they say…I won't ever forget him. And I'll never let you forget him. You'll always be his little lioness."

She drew her knees up and cradled Julianna in her arms. "Dada?" she asked, her eyes wide and uncertain.

She forced away her own tears as Julianna asked for Jaime. "I know you don't understand...you may not get to see him again." As she uttered the words aloud, Sansa lost her battle with herself and felt tears pour down her cheeks. "I'm sorry, sweetling. I'm sorry we live in a world that is so cruel and unfair."

Sansa lifted Julianna so her head rested on her shoulder and rubbed her back. _At least they haven't taken her from me. Not yet._ Sansa wondered what she was going to do about Tommen, who was still hiding with Gendry in the forge. She knew it would be impossible for her to take him with her if she was forced to travel to the capitol with the Queen and Littlefinger. _My mother is to remain here. She will look after him for me. Until I can escape King's Landing and return here._Even as the thought entered her head, Sansa knew it was absurd. She'd been trapped in Kings Landing before for nearly a year. And she had only escaped because of Jaime. Now she'd be alone with a baby and a castle-full of enemies.

Sansa closed her eyes in despair and simply held Julianna. After a time, the babe fell asleep and Sansa reluctantly left the safety of Jaime's closet to put her in her crib. _I'll always have Julianna to remind me of him. I only need look in her eyes to see him again. _She moved to the window seat, looking out as she tried to think of a way to escape with Jaime and the children.

She wasn't certain how long she sat there, but the sound of the door to her chamber opening tore her from her thoughts. Sansa turned and stiffened when she saw Lord Baelish step inside her bedchamber. Courtesy dictated that she rise to greet him. Sansa remained seated.

He stood watching her for a long moment before closing the door behind him and crossing the room to her. _He should not be here with me in my bedchamber._Even as she had that thought, he sat beside her on the window seat. Sansa shrank away from him and rose to create some distance between them, but he grabbed her wrist and pulled her back down to sit beside him. "That's not any way for a lady to behave with her betrothed. You're certainly not a shy maiden."

"I'm already wed. I cannot be your betrothed. Nor would I wish to be. I love Jaime."

He spoke to her as if she had not uttered a word. "I always imagined being Lord of Riverrun. It was a dream of mine since I was a boy, growing up there. A private dream, but a dream nonetheless. And I always imagined your mother - my Cat - by my side as my lady wife." Sansa felt her stomach turn as his eyes met hers. "You are even more beautiful than she was as a girl...I'll very much enjoy having you beside me as my lady wife…and the mother of my children."

When he uttered those words, Sansa wrenched her arm from his grasp and rose to her feet, putting distance between them. "I will never be yours. I'll never utter the words that would make you my husband. Never."

"Oh, I think you will. The Queen is not only giving me you. She's giving me the Kingslayer's daughter. _Your daughter._ If I convince her it's a threat to her throne to allow the child to remain with you, little Julianna Hill-"

"Her name is Julianna Lannister," Sansa roared.

"See, my dear, this is exactly the kind of thing that will cause the babe to be shipped off to be fostered by the gods only know who. You don't want her to be raised by another, do you? They'll certainly treat her as a bastard. Perhaps her foster father will have an…improper affection for her. Or treat her cruelly. Don't fret dear," he said as tears began to form in her eyes, "If you're a good girl…a good wife to me, I'll allow you to raise her alongside our children."

_Oh, gods. What am I to do? He's as bad as Joffrey._Littlefinger grasped her chin and leaned in to kiss her, his tongue wetting his lips as he moved towards her. Sansa instinctively wrenched away in disgust and hurried away from him.

"You'll have to do better than that to earn the right to raise your daughter. Her life and her future depend on you keeping me happy. Or, if not a foster family…perhaps she'll end up working in one of my pleasure houses. A pretty little thing like her would fetch a fair price." Sansa choked back a sob at the thought of her little girl being forced to work as a whore. He moved close to her, his mouth against the shell of her ear as he spoke quietly. "You've managed to keep the Kingslayer happy after years of fucking his sister. Certainly you can make me very happy."

His eyes moved over her, and she saw them narrow. "I never want to see you in Lannister colors again. You'll wear Tully blue. Nothing else. Take it off. Now."

_He's going to rape me. _She heard Jaime's words and knew what she needed to do. _Be brave and strong. You must fight. For Julianna. And for Jaime._

Sansa forced her hands to steady, and unlaced her gown, slipping it from her shoulders and letting it pool at her feet. She stood before him in only her shift now, too angry and scared to be embarrassed. She actually felt calm, knowing that she was taking control. For once.

His eyes moved over her as if he were at market looking over an animal to slaughter for his supper. "Get on the bed, my dear. Seeing as you're not a maiden, there's no need to wait until we are married to…indulge."

"I'm still married to Jaime," she said in a small voice.

"You're married to a dead man. _On the bed._ I was so close to having you for myself after the Battle of Blackwater. Then the Kingslayer returned and Lord Tywin gave you to his precious heir." He tried to lead her back to the bed, but she stubbornly remained where she was, pulling her hand from his grasp. "Be a good girl, Sansa…your daughter's future depends on it."

_He would rape me in the bed I shared with Jaime. The bed we made love in only last night. _I have to make him think I'll do what he asks. That I won't fight him. She obediently walked and sat on the bed. She could see in his eyes that he believed her to be the same scared, naïve girl she was in King's Landing. _He doesn't know how I have changed. Because of Jaime._

Sansa watched in disgust as Littlefinger took off his clothes. Sansa began feeling beneath the pillows, searching for the blade she had placed there. She stopped moving her hand as he approached her, naked as his nameday, and sat down on the bed.

Sansa averted her eyes from the disgusting sight before her. He touched her face, and she forced herself not to flinch, though she failed. "Don't fight me, Sansa," he murmured, trailing his hands down her neck and along her shoulders. Her stomach dropped as he began kissing her neck. He reached for the ties on her shift and Sansa felt the tears running down her face as he worked to remove the only thing concealing her nudity from him. _He has no right to do this – to touch me like this._

She knew she had to wait for the right moment, and forced herself to remain still as he pulled apart her shift, exposing her breasts to his gaze. She stared dully at the ceiling as he stripped her naked to the waist.

"I think you'll please me exceedingly, Sansa," he said, resting his hands on her waist. "That's a good girl," he murmured, as the bile rose in her throat. His eyes were fixed on her breasts and she felt his hands moving up the sides of her body. He sighed softly as his hands cupped her breasts. "I've arranged for some moon tea for you, in the event the Kingslayer's seed took root last night." Sansa closed her eyes, trying not to sob. "The whole castle knows he spent the night fucking you. Soon they'll learn that you belong to me. Lie back," he murmured, pushing her back onto the bed.

Littlefinger leaned over her and began moving his mouth toward her breasts. She couldn't help herself and slapped him. She saw the rage flash in his eyes as she began pushing him away and he grabbed her hands, holding them over her head as he pressed her back into the bed. "Do that again, and I'll feed your baby to the dragons."

She struggled to get free, but his body was pressing hers into the mattress and she couldn't get away from him. He shifted to push his knee between her thighs, and Sansa continued to wrench herself away from his grip.

"Get away from her." Sansa heard her mother's voice, cold as ice, from the doorway to the bathing room.

He turned at the sound of her voice, sitting back on his heels, a wicked smile on his face. "Cat. I'm merely getting better acquainted with my betrothed. As I recall, you and Brandon indulged in such…activities…after your betrothal."

"You are _not_ betrothed to her."

Littlefinger went on as if she'd said nothing. As if she had not found him naked and trying to rape her daughter. "I followed the two of you once – you and Brandon - out to the river. I watched as you stripped each other down and swam naked in the river. I watched him pleasure you with his mouth until you were screaming his name. I watched as he spilled his seed on your teats. Defiling you. Taking what was rightfully mine."

"I was _never_ yours."

He turned his attention back to Sansa, running his hand over her breast as she squirmed away from him, sliding her hand under her pillow. "_She _is mine_._ The queen plans for you to remain here, Cat, but perhaps you'd like to accompany us to King's Landing. You could…ease the burden on Sansa of keeping me happy."

Before her mother could respond to his filthy suggestion, Sansa's hand found the dagger. She tightly gripped the handle and took a deep breath before she plunged it into the side of Littlefinger's throat with all of her might, sending him sprawling from the bed, and onto the ground. Sansa covered her mouth with her free hand and lowered the dagger, watching as blood poured from the gaping wound she had put in his neck and he began gurgling as blood filled his throat. He reached for his throat and tried to speak, though he could not due to the wound in his neck.

Sansa watched as her mother crossed the room, kneeling beside him, and Littlefinger reached out for her. "Throw me a pillow, Sansa." She was shaking in terror and barely heard her mother's request. "Sansa. A pillow. _Now_."

She reached a shaking hand behind her and threw a pillow on the ground near her mother's feet, not believing that her mother actually planned to help him. "Lannisters aren't the only ones who pay their debts. This is for Ned." Her eyes widened as Lady Catelyn covered his face with the pillow and held it down as he clawed at it, trying to get free. She only removed the pillow when he stopped moving, checking that he was dead.

Her mother cautiously walked toward her and sat beside her on the bed. She gently took the dagger from her hand, and placed it on the ground before pulling up her shift to cover her. "Where did you get the dagger?" she asked quietly, re-tying her shift closed and wiping away her tears.

"Ser Addam slipped it in my pocket downstairs. So I could protect myself."

"Are you all right? He didn't hurt you?"

Sansa shook her head. "I'm…I'm not hurt."

"We have to get his body out of here somehow. That madwoman won't take kindly to the killing of her closest advisor."

Sansa nodded, looking around the room, her eyes resting on the window. She stood and walked across the room, pulling at the massive latches keeping the window closed, finally managing to open it as freezing air assailed her senses. She saw that her mother had covered Littlefinger's body with a bedsheet, though the top of it was already soaked with blood from the wound to his neck.

Littlefinger's body was heavy – even for the two of them together - as they began dragging him across the stone floor, toward the window. "Mother…how are we ever going to lift him up to throw him out the window? He's so heavy." Her mother frowned as she considered their options and Sansa turned at the sound of a gasp from the doorway to the bathing room. Roslin and Arya were standing there, their eyes wide as they took in the bloody body at Sansa and Lady Catelyn's feet.

"Who is that?" Arya asked.

"Arya, get a basin of water and some rags to clean up the blood," Roslin said, giving her a gentle shove and entering the room to help them. The three women struggled, but managed to lift Littlefinger's body onto the window seat and push him up and out the window. Arya ran over and leaned out the window, watching his body fall into the blackness of the Sunset Sea below. The four of them quickly worked together to clean up the blood, tossing the bloody rags out the window as well. Sansa noticed Arya admiring the dagger after wiping it clean of blood.

"I'm glad you killed him," she murmured, turning the dagger over in her hand until Lady Catelyn took it from her and stuck it back under Sansa's pillow. She saw her sister looking at her attire – noticing that she was no longer wearing her gown – and Sansa wrapped a blanket around her shoulders, looking away uncomfortably. _She must know what he tried to do. _Once they had finished cleaning up the blood, Sansa closed the window back up and the four of them huddled in front of the fire to warm back up. Sansa was grateful that Julianna was such a sound sleeper – she'd not awoken during any of it.

"Did anyone see him enter?" her mother asked.

"I don't know. There should be guards and…they let him in but…There are other rooms connected to this one, which he could have exited." Sansa grimaced. "Or perhaps they'll think I welcomed him into my bed and he stayed the night."

"If anyone asks you, he was here for only a few minutes, and left through the other bedchamber. You don't know where he went. All right?"

Sansa nodded. She sat on the bed and saw that her hands were shaking violently. "What will she do to me now that she can't force me to marry Lord Baelish? Will she find someone even more horrible and force me to marry him? Perhaps she'll just kill me along with Jaime. I'd prefer that," she finished in a whisper.

She saw Roslin exchange concerned looks with Lady Catelyn. "Sansa, you must not think that way. Jaime would not want to see you die. He would not want you to give up. He would want you to go on and raise Julianna." She nodded sadly as Roslin rubbed her shoulder.

"What if she takes her away from me, now? As punishment…for Littlefinger."

"I won't let that happen. I killed him, not you. Sansa, you should try to sleep, my love," her mother said, gently stroking her hair. "You've had…a difficult day."

"I'll stay here with Sansa," she heard Arya say. Her mother and Roslin must have agreed, because the next thing she knew, Arya was standing before her, placing one of Jaime's tunics on her lap. She looked at her sister in question. "It's for you to sleep in…like you did when Jaime was fighting the White Walkers. So you won't miss him so much."

Sansa smiled sadly, and hugged Arya. "Thank you," she whispered. "For taking care of me."

While she changed into Jaime's tunic, Arya pulled the heavy crimson drapes that surrounded the bed, enclosing it. She and Jaime had always left them open, but she supposed it would make her more comfortable to have the added privacy when there were so many enemies in the castle. _And I won't have Jaime beside me. _She watched as Arya carefully lifted the sleeping baby from her crib and carried her to Sansa. She climbed into the center of the bed and took the babe from her little sister. Julianna squeaked in her sleep and snuggled against Sansa. _I won't let anyone take you away from me, sweet baby. _ Sansa knew that she would kill anyone who tried to take her child from her.

Arya got into bed on the other side of Julianna and took Sansa's hand. "It will be all right, Sansa. I'll protect you and Julianna. And Jaime. I won't let her kill him," she whispered.

Sansa couldn't bring herself to respond. She didn't have much hope that Arya would be able to save Jaime, since she was only a little girl. _I feel so helpless. Again._ More than anything, she wanted her husband back. _Why won't they just leave us alone? _"You don't have to stay with me, Arya." She felt like a child – going to sleep in the middle of the day to avoid thinking about all that was wrong with her life.

"I don't mind…Did he hurt you?" Arya whispered. "Lord Baelish."

"No," she whispered back. "He wanted to. He tried to but…Mother and I stopped him. Arya, what if the Queen finds out we killed him? She might take Julianna away from me. Or…find some other…horrible way to punish me."

"The Queen won't find him. His body's in the Sunset Sea. No one will find him."

"I'm so afraid, Arya. I keep thinking about when father was executed. I was so afraid and…it was so terrible. I can't watch her burn him alive. I don't know what to do." She looked down at Julianna's sleeping face. "She won't even remember him," she whispered. "She won't remember how much he loved her or how happy she made him."

"Jaime will fight them. He won't let her kill him. He has all of his men here to fight with him. Father was alone." Sansa nodded absently, kissing her daughter's forehead. "I love you, Sansa."

"I love you, too," she whispered, holding her sister's hand and closing her eyes, letting sleep claim her as her babe slept in her arms.

…

_Thank you all for reading and reviewing. I've enjoyed reading the comments and speculation about what will happen – and a few are in line with my plans for the story…Dany has rather foolishly relied upon Baelish. Though, now that he's dead, she'll need someone else to guide her (or learn to rely on herself). That may require a chapter from Tyrion's perspective…We'll see._

_I agree that Jon and Tyrion HAVE been rather quiet about Dany's plans. In the next chapter, we'll learn what they think of her plans and what, if anything, they plan to do about it. _


	81. Chapter 81

_This chapter is a bit of an experiment, since it is from the perspective of Jon Snow…_

…

Chapter 81

Jon Snow nodded at the Unsullied, as they allowed him admittance to the hallway leading to the Lord's Chambers, where his sisters and their lady mother were being held. The Unsullied simply stood there in response, though they did not try to stop him – which told him that the Queen had already approved his visit with his sisters. The Unsullied never seemed to speak much, not that Jon would have been able to communicate with them anyway, as they only spoke High Valaryian. But he noticed that they barely spoke to one another and even Jon, who was a man of few words, found their silence and blank stares unsettling.

He counted no less than twenty Unsullied standing guard outside and around Sansa's bedchamber – far more than were necessary - and he knew her heavy guard was on the orders of Petyr Baelish. Now that he had convinced the Queen to give him Sansa as his future bride, he wasn't allowing her any opportunity to escape. Jon had not trusted the man from the start, not even when he had come to Jon about Sansa, as they traveled to Casterly Rock. _"Your sister was treated most cruelly by the Lannisters, and deserves far better than a marriage to the Kingslayer. I'll do what I can to convince the Queen to improve her circumstances."_ Jon had not realized Baelish intended to take her for himself.

When he had first set eyes on Casterly Rock, Jon had been astonished. He'd never seen a castle so immense and grand. It made Winterfell look like nothing in comparison. All Jon could think was, _I always knew Sansa would be lady of a grand castle._ For as far back as he could remember Sansa had acted as a proper lady. When they were little, she would only play with him and Robb if she could be the princess. She would sit in their father's high chair, as regal as a queen, with her mother's jewelry draped over her neck, and watch them battle for her favor, grandly offering her hand to the winner. As Jon looked around Casterly Rock, he had thought to himself that she never grew out of her love for all things grand and beautiful.

It was to be expected that, as Sansa grew older, she would spend more time with her septa, who was preparing her to be a good lady wife. But the distance that grew between the two of them was more than that. She became far too like her mother, and seemed to recognize Lady Catelyn's distaste for him as she grew older and followed her mother's example. She learned that having a bastard brother was something to be ashamed of – that _he_ was something to be ashamed of. Not that Sansa was unkind to him. She simply showed a distance and a coldness toward him. She never sought out his company. She never talked with him the way Robb and Arya and Bran had. But she was still his sister – whether she acknowledged it or not. Jon knew that his father would have wanted him to protect Sansa as much as he could. _At least I was able to convince the Queen to spare her life, though she may not like the man she'll have to marry in exchange._

When Arya sent a message through the guards, asking Jon to come visit with her in Sansa's chambers, Jon had not hesitated. When he'd left the Great Hall, after the Queen had made her pronouncements, he had not been able to shake the sound of Sansa's screams and cries as she fought to hold onto the Kingslayer. He'd never seen her lose her composure and fight so hard for something. Not ever. And Arya's invitation gave him the opportunity he wanted to reassure himself that Sansa was all right.

He raised his hand to knock on the door, but Arya opened it before he could, holding a finger to her lips. "Sansa and the baby are sleeping," she whispered quietly.

Sansa's bedchambr was dark and silent, except for the light and sound of the fire crackling in the massive fireplace. Jon looked over at the bed and saw that the curtains were drawn. _It's the middle of the day._ "Is she ill?" he asked in a whisper, though he immediately realized how ridiculous his question was. _Her husband was just sentenced to death. Of course she's not well._

Arya patted Ghost on the head and silently closed the door once Jon and the wolf had entered the bedchamber. Jon followed his little sister across the room to the chairs before the fire. "Sansa's scared. And she's sad. Because the Queen wants to execute Jaime."

Jon nodded, staring into the fire. He had known before they even arrived at Casterly Rock that the Queen would never pardon the Kingslayer. Jon had always thought that King Robert should have executed Jaime Lannister after he broke the vows he made when he joined the Kingsguard. At the very least, he should have been sent to the Wall to take the black. He was a man without honor – an oathbreaker - and he certainly did not deserve Sansa or the baby she'd born him.

Jon still remembered how sick he'd felt when he received word that Sansa had been married to the Kingslayer. He'd thought she was lost to her family forever when that happened. Then he'd received a letter from her. It was written in her hand, but he knew she must have been instructed about what to write. He had felt nothing but rage when he'd read that Sansa was with child – the Kingslayer's child. He knew then that not only would she never be free of the Lannisters, but that the Kingslayer would use that baby to take Winterfell from her.

As he traveled to the Rock, Jon had thought Sansa would be relieved to see an end to her forced marriage. _I thought she would be happy that one of her brothers had finally come to free her from the grasp of House Lannister._

But then he saw her, in the Great Hall of Casterly Rock. She was a woman grown – not the little girl he remembered – and she was even more beautiful, even more of a lady than he remembered. She had approached him shyly, carrying her babe. The child looked so like her, except for the green eyes from her Lannister father. And Jon had been shocked when Sansa had quietly begged him to spare the Kingslayer's life. Jon had immediately seen that Sansa was in love with her husband, but he didn't understand how. He knew that she had always dreamed of knights and castles, and her marriage to the Kingslayer had certainly given her that.

Even now, Jon did not understand. _How can she not see beyond a handsome face and a grand castle? After all that the Lannisters have done to the Starks. Father raised her better than that. Better than to be so shallow._ He had seen this morning that Sansa would never see the Kingslayer's execution the way he did – as exactly what the man deserved for his misdeeds. _Sansa needs to realize that the Kingslayer's death will finally free her from the Lannisters, once and for all._

"You have to help him, Jon," Arya whispered urgently, distracting him from his thoughts.

Jon looked at her in disbelief. "Help who? You expect me to help the Kingslayer?"

"Ser Jaime," Arya corrected. "He saved her, Jon. Joffrey was so mean to her. He would have killed her if Jaime had not returned to King's Landing and stopped him."

"He _forced_ her to marry him, Arya. And the only reason he married her was to take Winterfell away from the Starks, and put it under the control of the Lannisters. They killed Father and Robb. All to keep the Kingslayer's bastards on the throne. He's not a good man, Arya."

"I didn't like him at first either but…Jaime didn't kill father. Or Robb. And he's nice to Sansa. He protected her from them. He chose her over his own family. And he saved my mother from the Freys. He saved her for Sansa. And Jaime's my friend," Arya said, her voice wavering as she began to cry. "He's taught me to use a sword and…he talks to me. I don't want him to die."

Jon was dumbfounded as he listened to his sister beg for the Kingslayer's life. _How did he ever manage to win the affections of both of my sisters? Arya especially. _

Jon rose to his feet when Lady Catelyn entered the bedchamber, expecting that she would tell him to stay away from her daughters. "Lady Stark. We've not been able to speak since I've arrived and…I wanted to offer my condolences for Lord Stark and…for Robb."

She nodded slightly. "You needn't act as if you did not suffer a loss when they were killed, just as I did. I know you cared very much for them both," she said stiffly. Arya gave up her seat to her mother, sitting on the arm of her chair, and Jon realized that it was Lady Catelyn who wished to speak to him. _She must have asked Arya to send for me._ "Is there…is there nothing you can do? For Sansa?"

"What would you have me do?"

"Help them escape," Arya said urgently. "Jaime and Sansa need to go far away where no one can hurt them anymore. They're not safe here."

Jon looked to Lady Catelyn. "You approve of her marriage to Jaime Lannister?"

"No, but…it's done and…he's the father of her child and she loves him." She looked down at her hands, twisting her ring, which he remembered his father giving to her on her nameday when he was still a boy. "He protects her. Whatever I may think of him, I don't doubt that he would die to save her or that baby."

_What do they expect of me? I have no control over the Queen. She will not change the Kingslayer's sentence. She would never allow herself to appear so weak. I've never seen her change her mind, once she's announced it. _"There's nothing I can do, Lady Stark."

"So you approve of her cruelty to Sansa?" she asked sharply. "To kill her husband and force her to marry another man, who will forcibly bed her?"

"That's exactly what the Lannisters did to her. What the Kingslayer did to her – forced her into marriage and into his bed."

Lady Catelyn looked away, towards the bed. "She says that never happened. That he never forced her to do anything. I have no reason to disbelieve her. _Your Queen_ has no right to harm Sansa in this manner. Sansa has never done anything to her. That girlis trying to destroy every great House in Westeros. The smallfolk don't care who sits on the Iron Throne – but they are loyal to their liege lords and they will rebel. Does she intend burn them all? It wouldn't leave her much to be queen of."

"Isn't she your friend?" Arya asked, interrupting their disagreement.

Jon shook his head. "I wouldn't call her my friend. The Queen…she doesn't allow many to get close enough to really know her." Jon stared into the fire as he told them how he first met her. "She was traveling South with her entourage when our parties came upon one another. We were still…deep in the North, pursuing the White Walkers. I had," his voice broke and he took a deep breath. "I had just seen Winterfell – from a distance. It was nothing but a smoldering ruin. I wanted nothing more than to march my men to the gates and kill every last Bolton in the place." He met Lady Catelyn's eyes. "But I took vows and…Father would not have wished for me to break them."

Even now, he could see her bristle when she called Eddard Stark "Father," but he continued. "A rider came out to meet us and announced that Daenerys Targaryen, the Rightful Queen of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm, wished to speak to the Lord Commander of the Night's Watch. I rode back with her man and, she was holding court in a tent, her knights and advisors beside her. She was polite to begin with, though that changed when Lord Baelish informed her who I was. Or rather, who my father was."

"She said that Eddard Stark was 'one of the Usurper's dogs' and that if I was treasonous as my father, she may as well kill me right then." He smiled to himself and continued to gaze into the fire. "I risked her wrath and told her that Ned Stark was the most honorable man who'd ever lived – and he'd been executed for it. He died because of his honor and he died for his family." He glanced over and saw that both Arya and Lady Catelyn were emotional at the mention of Lord Stark. "I told the Queen that I didn't care who sat on the Iron Throne. I told her that my father and my brothers were dead, my sisters lost to me and…My reason for being south of the Wall was to uphold my vows to protect the Realm. I suppose she believed me because she asked me to follow her out of the tent and showed me her dragons. She offered to allow me to use them to rid Westeros of the White Walkers."

Jon didn't share the few personal things he'd learned about the Queen as she showed him her dragons and how they would be able to help him against the White Walkers. As he got to know her, Jon didn't understand why she was even in Westeros, pursuing the throne. She only seemed happy when she spoke of the house she had grown up in - some house in Braavos with a red door. It seemed to him that the girl only wanted a home and a family. Jon didn't think the Iron Throne would give her any of that, but he'd kept his thoughts to himself, for the most part. It wasn't his place to give her advice. She got enough advice from Petyr Baelish.

Jon had watched silently as Baelish led her astray, though her two knights tried to warn her away from Petyr Baelish, and gave her far better advice, in his opinion. But Jon knew that he could not help her or become involved in her quest for the throne. His men were already grumbling and complaining over simply traveling with the Queen's party. Though they quieted somewhat when they saw how quickly her dragons could dispatch entire armies of wights without costing the life of a single man of the Night's Watch.

"I didn't know she planned to give Sansa to Baelish. The only promise she would make to me, was that she would not take any of your lives. I didn't feel it was proper to press for more."

He looked up at his dead father's lady wife when she spoke. "I…I worry that Sansa will do something rash. Something that gets herself killed if he is executed. You say that you can't sway the Queen – that she won't change her mind – but, if that's true, certainly you could help them escape. She trusts you enough to give you freedom to move throughout the castle as you wish."

"Why would you even ask for my help? You've never wanted me as part of your family before."

"That's true," she said quietly. "There were so many times that…I wanted to accept you. I told myself that I would, but…Every time I looked at you, all I could feel was the pain of your father's betrayal. I couldn't forget how you came into the world." She wiped her eyes and looked at him then. "But I know you've always loved my children. As much as I discouraged it, I know that you came to love them. And I don't know where else to turn to help Sansa. She was alone for so long in King's Landing. And…horrible things were happening to her. Joffrey had the Kingsguard strip her and beat her…He threatened to rape her countless times. For nearly a year, she was in a constant state of terror. And I didn't protect her. She had no one to turn to. Except Jaime Lannister. He's the one who helped her when I failed her. But I can help her now. I _have_ to help her now."

Jon felt himself react physically to hearing what Sansa had been through in the capitol. Hearing how that little shit Joffrey had tormented his sister made Jon wish he weren't dead so he could kill the brat himself. _But it doesn't change the fact that the Queen has made her decision of what to do with Sansa and the Kingslayer. _

"Baelish has the Queen's ear and he was adamant that the Kingslayer must die. He tells her what she wants to hear, and there's no swaying her from his influence. She's far too uncertain about the politics of the Realm to turn away from him."

The only time Jon had ever seen the Queen refuse to take Littlefinger's advice was when he suggested Stannis Baratheon's daughter should be executed. Her parents had died in the battle, but the child was recovered alive. Daenerys seemed to feel some sort of kinship for the scared little girl with the strange scales on her face. Jon was there when she met the child who had a startling knowledge of everything about Dragonstone and the Targaryens. Daenerys was clearly charmed by the child and wished to keep her, as her ward. Baelish had pressed her, insisting that the child had to die, lest someone get the idea that the girl was the rightful heir to the Iron Throne, as the only living Baratheon. The Queen had not been swayed, pronouncing that she would take the girl in and give her a home.

"Littlefinger won't influence your Queen anymore," Lady Catelyn said in a hard voice. "You'll find he…disappeared in the night. He'll trouble my daughter no more."

"What does that mean?" Jon asked suspiciously. "Disappeared in the night?"

"I found him trying to…rape Sansa. Luckily Ser Addam gave her a blade, should she need to protect herself."

"Is she all right?"

"She's scared the Queen will find out and take the baby away to punish her," Arya said, glancing back at the bed to make sure Sansa was still sleeping.

"Is there any way the Queen could discover what happened?"

Arya shook her head. "We threw his body out the window and into the sea." Jon was not sorry Baelish was dead. He was only sorry that his sisters had to deal with such ugliness. _At least now, Sansa won't have to marry him. "_Now that he's dead, can't you change the Queen's mind about Jaime?"

"She won't listen to me. If Father were still alive…she'd have executed him. If I ask her to pardon the Kingslayer…it will only make her suspicious of me"

"Will you help them escape?" Lady Stark asked.

He looked at Lady Catelyn, as she asked him to commit treason. "You should prepare Sansa. For his death. So she doesn't do anything rash when it happens – anything that would draw the wrath of the Queen."

"Tell me, Jon, how can I prepare her for such a thing?" He'd heard such venom from Lady Catelyn many times during his life, so it did not surprise him. "No words could have prepared me for your father's death."

"If I were to help them escape…even if it were possible…I'd be as much of a traitor as the Kingslayer. Father taught me better than that. He taught me honor."

"Don't use your father's memory to justify your inaction. Your father knew the importance of family. You know very well why that girl calls your father a dog. Because he committed treason for his family. He fought the Targaryens – removed them from the Iron Throne - to avenge the murders of his father and his brother by a mad king. _And for his sister. _If your father were here…he would want you to help Sansa. He would help her himself if he could. I know that."

"Jon, you have to do something for Sansa," Arya urged. "We're a pack. We have to help each other."

"I took vows," he said quietly. "The Night's Watch is sworn to stay out of matters of politics."

"This is not politics," Lady Catelyn whispered urgently. "This is about family. I'm asking you to help your sister." He was shocked to hear Lady Catelyn call Sansa his sister. She'd never referred to him as brother to any of her children. "You could not help Robb or Bran or Rickon. But you can help Sansa. That girl wants Sansa's daughter to live as a bastard…you don't have a problem with that?"

He was surprised Lady Catelyn realized that would bother him more than anything. He knew what it was like to grow up a bastard – how cruel people were. He hated the thought of Sansa's innocent baby being condemned to such a fate. _I took vows. I promised to stay out of such matters. No matter what. I've already kept my vows through the murders of my father and brothers. I can't throw that all away to commit treason now._

"There's nothing I can do," Jon whispered, rising to his feet before he changed his mind. "I'm sorry…I'm sorry." He expected Ghost to follow, but he wasn't anywhere in the room. As he passed the bed, he saw that the curtains were slightly parted.

Sansa was sitting up in the bed, holding her sleeping babe. Ghost was lying beside her, his head in her lap, and his paw protectively over the baby. _He remembers her. And he must know the child is Sansa's pup – part of our pack. _Her head was down as she stroked the wolf's fur. She must have felt his gaze and looked up. Jon saw that she was crying. He looked at the baby sleeping in her arms and the tears streaming down Sansa's face, then met her eyes again. He saw the little girl that would beg him and Robb to be her knights, as she played the princess, the little girl who would sing songs to her dolls and cry at the sight of the first snow, because she thought it so beautiful. He saw his little sister.

Jon still remembered the first time he ever saw Sansa. She was a tiny little thing – only a few days old – and Jon had snuck in to see her when he saw that Lady Catelyn was asleep. He'd held her tiny fist in his hand and marveled over his beautiful baby sister. His Father had caught him. He wasn't angry. Instead, he told Jon in a whisper that he and Sansa shared the same blood and he was to protect her always.

"Sansa…Get dressed. Put on something warm – you and the babe - and wait for me to return for you. Prepare to leave here forever."

…

_Jon's perspective got longer than I thought, because I wanted to include some of the background of how he met Dany and what his thoughts have been up to his point. I originally was going to keep it all Jaime and Sansa as POV characters, but ultimately changed it from Sansa overhearing Jon talk to Catelyn and Arya. I think he can be somewhat frustrating (as Ned was at times) without knowing why he does what he does._

_I see Jon as having the same fatal flaw that Ned had – unfailing honor and a rigid adherence to vows. So I think it would be difficult for him to commit treason, which is what it would be to help Sansa. Which is why I feel like it would take a lot for him to finally do something he considered dishonorable, especially for the sibling he has the most distant relationship with. I would love to know your thoughts, since Jon is not a character I'm wildly invested in, like Jaime and Sansa, so he's more difficult for me to write._

_We'll see Tyrion in the next chapter._

_Ahh…still traumatized from tonight's show…_


	82. Chapter 82

Chapter 82

…

_"Sansa…Get dressed. Put on something warm – you and the babe - and wait for me to return for you. Prepare to leave here forever."_

It took a moment for Jon's words to finally register in her mind, which was so clouded with despair. At first, she didn't understand why he was telling her to get dressed. Then it began to dawn on her. _Is he really going to help us?_ She thought she must have misunderstood. Jon's conversation with Arya and her mother still echoed in her head as she looked at her brother. He had been so adamant that there was nothing he could do for her. And that he thought Jaime deserved to die. _Why would he suddenly change his mind?_

She had awoken to a direwolf licking and nuzzling against her hand, and for a moment, Sansa thought she was dreaming about Lady. She'd dreamed that she had Lady back many times in King's Landing, when she was afraid and longed for a protector. But, when she looked closely at the wolf rubbing against her, she saw that it was much lighter than Lady was - completely white - with red eyes and she knew it was Ghost. The wolf had met her eyes and stepped over her, sniffing Julianna curiously before licking the sleeping babe's head and lying down beside her. She had known that meant Jon was in her bedchamber. Sansa had stayed where she was, not wishing to see her brother just then. Not after he just stood there while the Queen destroyed Sansa's life and sentenced Jaime to die.

As she lay there, listening to the hushed voices of Jon, Arya and her mother, Sansa's eyes had filled with tears as she listened to Arya beg for Jaime's life. She had wanted to tell her sister not to bother with her pleas because Jon would never help Jaime. She listened as he called her husband "Kingslayer," and had no doubt that Jon hated him. _Everyone thinks they know Jaime, because he killed the Mad King, but they don't. He's nothing like what they think._ When they were first betrothed, Sansa had not expected Jaime to be as kind and gentle with her as he was. She had been relieved to learn that she had no reason to fear him.

When she heard Jon refuse to appeal to the Queen to save Jaime's life – and refuse to help them escape - Sansa had lost all hope. She knew if her own brother wasn't willing to help her, a stranger certainly would not. _I'll never feel Jaime's arms holding me again. Never again see him hold our baby girl._ Ghost had moved closer to her then, sensing her distress. He had put his head in her lap as tears began streaming down her face. In that moment, she had been certain that she would have to watch Jaime die. And it made her want to die herself.

She had been distracted from her misery when she saw movement by the bed out of the corner of her eye. That's when she saw that Jon was watching her. She wanted to say something to him, but she didn't know what to say. She didn't trust herself to do anything more than sob, as miserable as she was. He spoke first. When Jon told her to prepare herself to leave the Rock, he gave her hope for the first time since the Queen made her pronouncement.

Sansa didn't know what changed his mind, but it seemed that something had. She wanted to trust, to believe that everything was going to be all right, but she was afraid to get her hopes up, for fear that she was still dreaming. _Please let this be real. Please let this be Jaime's chance to live. For me and for Julianna._

"I'll be back soon, Sansa. Make certain you're ready to leave."

Sansa nodded quickly before he could change his mind, wiping her eyes as Ghost jumped off the bed and followed Jon out the door. She began softly stroking Julianna's little face. "Wake up, sweetling," she whispered. "We're going leave soon. We're going to get your father and leave."

She swung her feet onto the ground and met the eyes of her mother and sister. "Thank you," she whispered, her voice cracking with emotion. "I know you only asked for Jon's help because of me. I can never repay you for…for helping us."

"You owe us nothing, my love. I'd do anything for you. For your happiness."

"Hurry. You have to get ready," Arya whispered urgently, pulling Sansa to her feet.

She let her mother hold the baby while Arya helped her put on her warmest wool dress. When Sansa had dressed and fixed her hair, she returned from her dressing area, carrying her heaviest fur cloak, and watched her mother gently rocking Julianna, who yawned sleepily. _We'll see each other again_, Sansa promised herself. She wanted her daughter to know her family one day. When it was safe for them.

"This is for Jaime," Arya said, handing her Jaime's fur cloak. Sansa smiled at her sister's concern for Jaime. She knew it had to be difficult for Arya to say goodbye to the man who had become another brother to her. _And this goodbye could be forever_. "I'll miss you, Sansa," Arya whispered.

Sansa leaned down and hugged her sister tightly, wishing they did not have to be separated so soon after finding one another again. "I'll miss you, too. Look after mother for me," Sansa whispered, and Arya nodded against her shoulder. "I love you very much. Don't ever forget that."

She kissed the top of her head and walked over to the bed, reaching beneath her pillow to grab the jeweled dagger. Sansa tucked the dagger inside her cloak as well as the few jewels that she had not packed when she and Jaime were preparing to flee to the Free Cities. _We may need to sell the dagger and jewels for food. We may be leaving here with nothing more than the clothes on our backs. _Though Sansa knew that they would have struggles ahead of them, she didn't care, so long as they were together.

_"What if Jon changes his mind?" Sansa whispered, hesitant to voice her fears aloud._

"He'll be back. He promised," Arya assured her, leaning against Sansa with her arm linked through hers.

"What if the Queen found out what he was planning?" Sansa thought about all of the times since leaving Winterfell that she had been certain that she had improved her fortunes only to be proven horribly wrong. Sansa was terrified to get her hopes up, only to have them dashed yet again. _I was so certain that the Queen would pardon Jaime, after I spoke to her. And look how horribly that turned out._ She always used to be an optimist – believing that there was a happy ending for everyone. Now, Sansa knew how foolish she had been.

Sansa took Julianna back from her mother and held her as they waited for Jon to return. They waited for hours and Sansa got more and more anxious as the minutes ticked by. As she had nothing to do but sit and think, her thoughts turned to Jaime.

She was so afraid for him. She tried not to think of what the Unsullied could have done to him after they dragged him from the Great Hall. They could have beaten him or tortured him. Sansa shook her head, chasing those thoughts from her mind. _The Queen said he would be executed in King's Landing. They would not have done anything to hurt him yet._ She had to believe that Jaime was all right or she would go crazy. The Queen's soldiers seemed so cruel and inhuman. She worried Jaime would do something to make them angry. _He is rather good at provoking anger in others. _Sansa closed her eyes and prayed that he wasn't hurt and that they would all be able to leave Casterly Rock safely.

"I know it's hard, after everything that's happened. After all of the loss and…disappointments," her mother said quietly, "But try not to think the worst." It must have shown on her face that she was terrified that something would go wrong. "Stand up, for a moment, my love." She did as her mother asked, not understanding why her mother was approaching her with a soft bed sheet in her hands. Lady Catelyn turned Julianna so she was facing Sansa and used the bed sheet to tightly wrap her against Sansa's chest – so securely that Sansa didn't even have to hold her. "This will make it easier for you to carry her. I don't know what they are planning for your escape, but this will leave your hands free, if need be. She'll stay nice and warm beneath your cloak." She watched her mother gently stroke Julianna's head as she looked at her fondly.

"You won't change your mind and come with us?" Sansa whispered to her mother as she draped her cloak over her shoulders again.

She shook her head. "We'll be fine here. I have no intention of letting that girl chase every noble family from Westeros. Now that Petyr is gone…she may get better advice. I won't allow Riverrun or Winterfell to fall into enemy hands. I owe that your father. And to mine." Sansa understood her mother's need to stay and fight, even if she didn't share the sentiment. Sansa was tired of fighting. She was tired of danger swirling around those she loved. She didn't care about castles or titles. _All I want is to go with Jaime to the Free Cities, where we can be happy and raise our family._

Sansa's eyes popped open when she heard several low groans in the hallway, followed by the sound of steel clashing. She clutched Julianna against her chest and backed away from the door in fear. Arya and her mother stayed where they were, though the bedchamber door also held their attention, as it did Sansa's. It was quiet, but Sansa could tell there was a battle going on outside her chamber door. Sansa could hardly breathe as she waited to see who it would be that prevailed and entered her chamber. _I don't know if I can survive another defeat._

She heard the door open and looked up hesitantly, nearly crying in relief when Ser Addam appeared, followed by her personal guards. "You must come quickly, my lady," Addam said as Ghost padded in behind him and ran over to her. "There's not much time."

"Say your goodbyes quickly, Sansa. We must go," Jon said quietly from the doorway. "Lannister's men have killed the guards on duty. Though, we don't have long until a patrol comes through."

She nodded and Arya ran to her and hugged her tightly. "Tell Jaime I said goodbye."

Sansa squeezed her sister's shoulder and looked over her head at Jon. "You're freeing Jaime from the dungeons?" she asked slowly, seeking confirmation. She had to be certain that her husband was going to be leaving with her. Sansa knew that Jon hated Jaime and she feared that he only planned to help her escape with Julianna. She knew she would not be able to leave Jaime behind to die. If that were the case, she would refuse their help. Ser Addam's words filled her with relief.

"Don't worry, Jaime's going with you. To the Free Cities. Your handmaiden's gone down to the forge to get the boy. You must come with us now, Sansa." She nodded in relief, knowing that she could trust Ser Addam to ensure that Jaime would not die.

Sansa took her mother's hand. "Thank you, Mother. For…for helping us." She closed her eyes as Lady Catelyn kissed her forehead and hugged her as tightly as she could with the babe secured between them.

"Be happy, my darling girl. I love you, so very much," she said, kissing the top of the babe's head. "Take care of my granddaughter."

She nodded, smiling through her tears. "I love you, mother."

"Sansa, come with me. You have to get out of here now," Jon said, taking one of her arms and leading her out of the bedchamber. She heard Ser Addam giving instructions to her mother and sister as she entered the hallway. She covered her mouth with her hand when she saw the dead Unsullied littering the hallway.

"Littlefinger had you heavily guarded," Jon murmured quietly as he carefully escorted her around the blood and fallen men while Ghost walked at her side. She rested her hand on the direwolf's back for comfort. _The Unsullied are rumored to be such fierce warriors. Yet not a single red cloak fell dead._ Jon must have noticed her expression as she took in the massacre that had occurred to secure her freedom. "It helped that they trusted me," he added quietly. "They never thought I would lead an ambush against them."

"Thank you, Jon. I know…I know it had to be difficult for you. To do something you consider dishonorable," she whispered. "I am grateful. For myself and for my daughter." Sansa glanced behind her and saw that her personal guards followed closely behind them.

"I suppose it's appropriate…they violated your husband's trust to get in here. Now I've used their trust in me to get you out." She nodded, clutching his arm as they continued walking. "I've always considered you to be my sister, Sansa. Even you did not feel the same."

She wanted to tell him that he was wrong. That she did care for him as her brother, but he stopped her from walking with him. "Walk back a few paces with your guards. I'll go ahead and make sure it's safe before you to follow with the babe."

She watched as Jon walked ahead with Ghost, cautiously scanning each doorway they crossed, before her guards would allow her to follow. She stroked Julianna's little head beneath her cloak, glad she was quiet. Sansa felt safe with her guards surrounding her once again, but she was still nervous that something would happen to stop their escape.

Sansa froze as two of her guards stepped in front of her. Two Unsullied, patrolling the castle, had crossed their path. She felt her heart pounding against her chest in terror as Jon drew his sword. _Please don't let him die. Then it would only be me and Arya. _Two of her guards joined the fight, but she could see that Jon did not need their help. The Unsullied were supposed to be the best warriors in the world. And she watched as her brother easily bested them. She remembered watching him practice with Robb back in Winterfell, when they were boys, but it seemed Jon had become quite a warrior in the years since they had parted ways. He seemed nearly as good with a sword as Jaime.

Once Jon had killed the two Unsullied, her guards led her around their bodies, and they continued following Jon as the white direwolf silently padded along beside him. She had never before thought he seemed more like her father. _It's a pity he cannot be Lord Stark of Winterfell. _Sansa felt nothing but pride that Jon was her brother. _He is a Stark. No matter what his name._

….

Jaime sat on the cold stone floor of his dungeon cell, his arms wrapped around himself as he shivered from the cold. _The Stark's brutal Winter may kill me before the dragons get a chance. _He didn't care so much about the cold for himself. He could only think of Sansa. It was tearing him apart to be locking in a cage – helpless and unable to do anything to protect Sansa and Julianna. _I swore to protect her always. I swore it. This was the vow that I knew I would never break._

He had bruised and bloodied himself after Littlefinger left by punching and kicking and throwing himself against the bars of his cell – more in an effort to punish himself than to actually get free. He knew the bars would never break. But he deserved to feel pain. His entire body was battered, and ached from his efforts, but he didn't care. _My pain is likely nothing compared to what Sansa is feeling. _It was driving him mad knowing that Littlefinger could be making good on his threats - raping Sansa - and there was nothing he could do to stop the man.

Jaime hoped that Ser Addam had been able to get her a weapon. Sansa was left to defend herself and their baby. She certainly couldn't do it with her bare hands. _If he touches her, I will see him dead. And the Targaryen girl, too_. Though he very nearly laughed, even as he had the thought. _You're locked in a cage, soon to be burned away to nothing. You'll never get your revenge._

He heard footsteps approaching and wondered who had come to torment him now – to mock him as he was held prisoner in his own home. He felt the bile rise in his throat at the thought of Littlefinger coming to gloat about having fucked his wife. He felt his missing hand clench in rage as he lifted his head.

"Come to gloat, brother? It seems your revenge is complete. Will you listen as Littlefinger rapes my wife every night and feel that it's my just desserts for what Father did to yours?" Jaime looked down at his hand, taking in his bloody knuckles. "It was foolish of me to believe you, when you said you wouldn't let me die. Well played, Tyrion. Really. Father would be proud. As we were traveling here, from King's Landing, Sansa and I saw Aunt Genna and…she spoke of Lord Tywin and how she would miss her brother. She remarked that _you_ were always Tywin's son. That you were so like him and…I see now that she's right. This is a revenge worthy of the great Tywin Lannister himself." Jaime shook his head. "I never dreamed your hatred of me extended to Sansa…my sweet girl," he murmured quietly to himself. _This is my punishment for all of my sins. I thought it was losing my hand but…it's what will happen to my wife and child after I'm dead. _

"I did speak to the Queen, Jaime. As I said I would. But there was no swaying her. Not after Littlefinger's…presentation. If he weren't here…I don't believe you'd be here in this cell. She was prepared to grant Sansa's request. But…now the Queen has spoken."

"That girl is no queen," he snarled. "Just because she has dragons and an army? She may be able to kill everyone, but it doesn't mean she can rule the Realm. Certainly Robert Baratheon proved that being a good warrior – winning a war – doesn't make someone a good leader. No one in Westeros has been mourning the loss of the Targaryens, whatever she may think. The People rejoiced to be free of the Mad King. Does she even know that? If she's so foolish as to follow the advice of someone like Baelish, she deserves what lies ahead for her."

"She could be a good leader. A good queen. She simply needs to learn the game. To learn…humility. To learn about her people. The nobility as well as the small folk."

Jaime didn't much care about the girl's future on the throne. He only cared about Sansa's future and that of his daughter. "Go away, brother. I understand why she did not wish to pardon me but…she has no cause to be so unfeeling to Sansa."

"Your lady wife is a Stark. That's reason enough, to her." Jaime looked at Tyrion in confusion. "Ned Stark helped Robert win his throne. He could not have won the Rebellion without the support of the Starks, the Tully's…the Lannisters. Sansa has two strikes against her. The Queen has not learned to forget past wrongs when it is politically necessary."

"Perhaps she should consider the opinion of the people she wishes to lead. They will rise against her if provoked enough. She'll certainly never win the Westerlands. Even during her short time as Lady of the Rock, Sansa won the good opinion of the smallfolk. As did I…believe it or not. They'll not stand by as their lady is brutalized. Nor for my daughter being declared a bastard."

"Jaime, nothing is going to happen to Sansa or the babe."

Jaime allowed himself to feel hope for a moment, before he reminded himself that Tyrion had said he would not allow Jaime to die, and now he was sitting in a dungeon, having been sentenced to death. _It's Baelish who controls the Queen, not my little brother. He can't help us. _He met Tyrion's eyes, knowing he had to swallow his pride and do what he could for Sansa and his children. "Let her kill me if you must, but…Will you…will you look out for Sansa and…my daughter? Get her free of Baelish somehow? I only care about my family being safe."

"Including Tommen?"

"If you can find him." Jaime still wasn't willing to give up his last secret to Tyrion.

Tyrion raised his eyebrow. "I suppose the golden-haired little boy running around in the forge playing with his little cats is simply an urchin from Flea Bottom who resembles you as a boy?"

He felt fear yet again, and worried that Tyrion planned to turn the boy over to his queen. Though, despite everything, he found it difficult to believe that Tyrion would allow Tommen to suffer such a brutal death. Before he could ask him what he planned to do with Tommen, he saw another torch moving at the entrance to the dungeons. It took him a few moments to recognize who was approaching, and he saw that it was Jon Snow. _Has the girl decided to execute me now? _

As Snow moved further into the dungeons, Jaime saw a flash of coppery red moving behind him, and realized that Sansa was following him, along with several of her guards. She was wearing a heavy cloak and furs and Tommen held her hand. He felt uneasy because he didn't see Julianna, but he told himself that Sansa would never allow herself to be separated from their babe.

He couldn't hear her words, but Jaime saw that Sansa was speaking to Tommen and pointing toward a narrow opening leading out to the ocean – the one that was letting the snow and freezing cold into the dungeons. Jaime saw Pia and Gendry enter the dungeons and stand behind the child. Pia took Tommen's hand from Sansa's grasp and it looked as if Gendry carried Tommen's cage of kittens.

"Into the boats, there's not a moment to lose," Tyrion called out.

Sansa turned at the sound of his voice and her eyes locked on Jaime's. She smiled and he never knew such relief, knowing that Sansa was safe. _Her brother is helping her…she'll be safe. Even if I never see her again…I can rest easy knowing that she's alive and far away from Littlefinger and the Mad Queen._

He barely heard Tyrion as he continued speaking to him. Jaime couldn't manage to tear his attention away from Sansa. " The Queen put me in charge of reclaiming your ship from the harbor. For myself, as Lord of the Rock. Though…It seems I did not find the time to remove anything from your ship. All of the gold and jewels and food that you and Sansa loaded onto the ship in preparation for your journey are untouched. Sansa and the children will not want for anything."

_Sansa and the children. _Jaime felt his heart sink a bit at Tyrions's words. _I'm not going with them, then. __At least Sansa and the children will be safe. I can say goodbye to her, knowing she won't be married off to Littlefinger. Knowing that Julianna won't be taken away from her and that Tommen won't be burned to death. She'll look after the children._

Sansa appeared at his cell, with tears glistening in her eyes. She reached her hand between the bars to touch his face. Jaime leaned into her touch and, now that she was close, Jaime saw that Julianna was hidden beneath her cloak. He ran his hand over the babe's hair, smiling as Julianna turned her head to look at him. She smiled at him and Jaime felt nothing but pain, knowing he would not see her grow up.

His hand slid into Sansa's hair and he pulled her close to the bars, kissing her. She smiled against his lips, not expecting such a kiss as his tongue slid between her lips. _I have to taste her. Just one last time._ He felt her trying to pull away – no doubt thinking it improper to show such passion in front of his brother – but Jaime held her still as he kissed her thoroughly. "I love you," he murmured as he finally released her lips.

"Jaime," she chided, an endearing blush on her cheeks, though her eyes softened and she slipped her own hand up to his hair. "Who hurt you?" she asked, seeing his bloodied knuckles and bruises.

He shook his head. "I…lost my temper," he said sheepishly, "and took it out on the bars."

She took his hand and kissed it. Jaime wished that he was going with her. That she could take care of him. He stared at her for a moment. _She's so beautiful. And I love her more than anything. How do I let her walk away from me forever? _"May we have a moment alone, to say goodbye?" Jaime asked his brother, cursing the tears he felt welling in his eyes. Sansa pulled her hand away and wheeled on Tyrion – the venom in her gaze shocking him.

"No. No. They told me Jaime was being freed," she began, accusation dripping from her voice.

"Don't worry, my dear good sister. You've not been deceived. Who do you wish to say goodbye to, Jaime?" Tyrion asked, producing a key from his pocket and unlocking the cell door. "I think you misunderstood my words. You're going with her."

Jaime could scarce believe that Tyrion was freeing him, though he exited his cell quickly, before his brother changed his mind. He pulled Sansa against his chest, breathing easy for the first time since dragons first appeared in the sky above Casterly Rock. She held him tightly, crying as she buried her face against his chest and Julianna squealed and laughed in delight as she was pressed between them. Jaime laughed and kissed his daughter's head. He had feared that he would never be allowed to hold Sansa again. That he would only see her in his mind as the Targaryen girl's dragons unleashed their flames on him. Sansa pulled away and now he saw that she carried a fur cloak for him as well. She stood on her tiptoes, wrapping his cloak around his shoulders.

"You're freezing," she whispered as she ran her hands up and down his arms. "She just left you here to suffer until…she could kill you." There were tears in her eyes and, though he could have stood there holding her forever, he knew they had to leave.

"You'll warm me up later," he said with a smirk, though his thoughts grew serious as he looked her over. "Are you all right?" he whispered and she nodded. He would ask her later what Littlefinger had done to her. There was no time for that now. He knew very well that there would be a small window of time for he and Sansa to escape. No matter who was helping them.

"Your ship to set sail less than an hour ago from the harbor. There are rowboats that will take everyone out to meet it. Tommen's already gone. It's a bit treacherous to get out to the boats – there's no longer even a dock but…it will serve. I don't believe anyone will think to look to the horizon for some time, once your escape has been noticed. I've been most adamant that no one could escape this way, except to plunge into the icy water. Though, if my calculations are correct, and the dreamwine served at dinner is as potent as I requested from the kitchen, you'll have sailed beyond the horizon before your absence is noticed."

Jaime realized that Tyrion had put quite a lot of thought into their escape. "Brother -"

"Go, Jaime. There's no time to waste. You don't have to say anything. I hope that…your exile won't be forever." Jaime didn't much care if he and Sansa never returned to Westeros. Though he would miss his brother. He reluctantly released Sansa and leaned down to quickly embrace his brother. "I won't forget this, Tyrion. And I…I am sorry for…for Tysha and…the part I played."

"Enough, Jaime. Take your pretty little wife and go."

"Won't you come with us? All of you...you're committing treason," Sansa whispered.

"We are committing treason. But...it's for love. My love for my brother and Snow's love for you. For his sister."

"Thirty red-cloaks will go with you to the Free Cities. Men without families, who fought beside us against the White Walkers. And Lady Sansa's personal guards also volunteered to serve you in the Free Cities," Ser Addam said, as he led them to the same opening in the Rock he'd watched Sansa direct Tommen towards. "I'll remain and ensure the safety of Lady Catelyn and her daughter. As well as the Tullys."

"The girl will blame you for our escape," Jaime said with worry.

"No need to worry, brother. Ser Addam could not have helped you. He was drinking with Snow and I all evening in my chambers. Planning the future of Casterly Rock. This is as far as I go," Tyrion said, as Ser Addam and Jon Snow climbed out through the low opening in the rock formation.

"Thank you," Sansa said, her voice breaking.

"Look after my brother, Lady Sansa," Tyrion said with a smirk, his eyes on Jaime.

They both bid Tyrion farewell and Jaime followed Sansa out into the freezing air. They found themselves on rocks slick with ice and snow as the wind howled and the water lapped at their feet. Sansa was holding onto the side of Casterly Rock, clutching Julianna tightly with her free hand. They had to walk nearly 100 feet across the flat, slippery rocks to reach the rowboat that would take them out to their ship.

He saw Sansa's unease at the prospect of carrying Julianna across the rocks. Jaime opened her cloak, not allowing himself to feel the bone-chilling cold, and saw that Julianna was tied to her chest with a bedsheet. He tested the bindings and looked up as Jon Snow offered him his scarf. Jaime nodded his thanks and used the scarf to secure Julianna even more against Sansa.

"You can do this, Sansa," Jaime whispered, closing up her cloak to shield the babe from the cold. "She's not going anywhere. And you've proven how brave you are." Jaime would have carried the babe himself, but he thought Sansa was the safer choice, as she had two good hands.

She looked nervously across the rocks and down at the black water. She nodded and looked up into the sky. "The dragons?" she asked fearfully, and Jaime knew that she was thinking of how they had burned the decoy boat they had sent out when the siege began.

"They are chained down for the night and the Queen's scouts, assigned to watch this side of the castle…they're dead. No one will see us and sound the alarm. But you must go now, before someone notices," her brother said gently. "Quickly and quietly."

Two of Sansa's guards led the way out across the rocks, to the boats, and Sansa followed them slowly and carefully. Jaime kept a hand on her waist as he followed her across, and her brother had her arm. Jaime didn't blame Sansa for being fearful. Even he was uneasy with how treacherous their escape was. But he knew they had no choice. _It's certainly better than dragonfire._

Sansa clutched Julianna against her with one arm. Her foot slipped on the ice for a moment, but her brother held her upright. She took another step, and Jaime saw her foot slide a bit out from under her. He watched her panic as she began to fall into the freezing water, taking the babe with her. Jaime shoved Sansa toward her brother and took the fall himself. Jaime felt all of the air being forced out of his lungs as he plunged beneath the freezing water.

…

_I know. I know. Another cliffhanger. At least Jaime's out of his cell…The next chapter will pick up where this one leaves off as Jaime and Sansa continue their escape. _

_As always, thank you for the reviews. They definitely help motivate me to keep writing at this pace, knowing that so many of you are reading and enjoying the story._


	83. Chapter 83

Chapter 83

Sansa watched in horror as Jaime slipped off the rocks, and disappeared beneath the water. She lunged toward him, but Jon held her back, covering her mouth to silence her scream. "You can't make a sound," he whispered urgently. "Someone in the castle will hear you and then we're all dead. The Kingslayer included."

She nodded and forced herself to remain silent. Every part of her was shaking with a desire to go to Jaime – to help him out of the water and back onto the rocks. Though she knew, in her head, that she would only be pulled into the freezing sea herself if she tried to help him. _Jaime used to jump off the cliffs and into the Sunset Sea as a boy. He's a strong swimmer. He'll be fine. He has to be._

Ser Addam and her guards knelt at the edge of the water and reached in, trying to pull Jaime back onto the rocks. It was all she could do not force Jon to release her when she saw Jaime's head rise out of the water. He gasped for breath and struggled to keep from submerging once again beneath the freezing water. Jaime managed to grasp the rocks with his only hand, though they were covered with a slick coating of ice and he immediately slipped underwater once again. Sansa realized that Jaime's heavy cloak, now soaked with icy water, was pulling him underwater as he fought against it. Ser Addam must have noticed as well, and Sansa watched him rip the cloak from Jaime's shoulders, allowing it to sink into the blackness as he and two other guards wrenched Jaime out of the freezing sea.

Jon released her then, knowing she was no longer at risk of leaning over the edge of the rocks, and Sansa carefully made her way over to him, kneeling by his side. He was already shivering violently by the time she reached him. "Jaime?" she whispered, watching as the water in his hair turned to ice as it froze, creating the illusion that his hair was white. His skin was pale and cold to the touch and his lips were blue. _Oh Gods…he could die from the cold._

"I'm a-a-all right, S-Sansa," he barely managed to gasp out. "Get- Get in the boat…with…with Julianna…"

"He's right. We have to keep moving. Until your ship carries you out of sight of the Rock, you're not safe," Ser Addam said gently, pulling Jaime to his feet, with the help of one of the guards. Sansa rested her hands on Jaime's cheeks, hoping the contact would warm him a bit. Before she could fuss over Jaime anymore, Sansa felt Jon grab her arm and pull her away, continuing their treacherous walk to the rowboat that awaited them.

"I have to help him." She looked back at Jaime nervously as Jon ushered her along next to him. Ghost walked beside her, easily padding along the slick rocks, and Sansa gripped his fur to keep her balance.

"They'll get him in the boat. Worry about yourself and the babe," Jon said, noticing her continuing to glance backwards. "I don't know how long we have until your escape is discovered. It's important to put distance between yourselves and Casterly Rock. If your ship is seen, the dragons will be sent after you."

She knew he was right. She knew how important it was that she and Jaime reached their ship. Sansa forced herself to walk forward slowly, careful not to lose her footing again. She could hear sounds of movement - more dragging than walking - behind her, though it reassured her that Jaime was following. When they reached the boat, Jon knelt down and held it steady, as those of her guard that were already inside and waiting reached for Sansa's arms and lifted her in, setting her down safely in the rowboat. She rubbed her hands over Julianna, who was snuggling against her for warmth beneath her cloak. Sansa watched as Addam practically dragged Jaime along the rocks, toward the rowboat.

"Take care of yourself and the babe," her brother whispered to her quietly, still kneeling beside the boat. "Don't worry about Arya or your mother. I promise you, I'll ensure they are safe. The Imp has already made plans for them and the other hostages from…the wedding." Jon could barely say the words, his pain over Robb's death quite apparent in his face.

"Thank you, Jon. For helping us. I know…I know it wasn't easy for you. Especially to help Jaime."

"I could never bear to see you cry. Not when you were a little girl and not now." Sansa smiled, remembering once, when she was only ten, and Arya four. Arya had broken her favorite doll and Sansa had cried and cried. In the morning, Jon had presented it to her – good as new. He must have stayed up all night fixing it for her. _I seemed to have forgotten how kind he was to me when we were small._ "You're certain you want this, Sansa? You want to go with him?"

She took Jon's hand and nodded. "I do, Jon. We love each other and…he makes me happy. Before Jaime…I'd not been happy for a long time. Jaime and I belong together, Jon. Julianna…and my marriage to Jaime are the only good things to come out of this war." He watched her for a long moment before nodding slowly in understanding. Jon continued to hold the boat steady as Ser Addam and the redcloaks lifted Jaime into the boat. Sansa quickly moved beside him, looking him over to see how badly he was suffering after falling into the water. She didn't like what she saw. _He's freezing. We have to make it to the ship so I can get him out of these wet clothes and take care of him._

Ser Addam removed his own cloak and gave it to Sansa, for Jaime, before he leaned over and clapped Jaime on the shoulder. "Be careful. Both of you." Jaime covered Ser Addam's hand with his own and shakily nodded his thanks. "Sansa, when you get to the ship, make certain you get him warm quickly. Hypothermia's just as deadly as a sword."

Sansa nodded, wincing at how pale Jaime was as he shivered against her shoulder. She wrapped Ser Addam's cloak around Jaime's shoulders, but he continued to tremble, and his teeth were still chattering. She reached for the clasp on her own cloak to remove it and wrap it around him as well but his near-frozen hand covered hers, stopping her. "N…no. That's for…y..y…you and the babe." She took his hand and placed it in her lap, wrapping it in her cloak.

"Oh, Jaime." She could hear his teeth chattering as Jaime wrapped his arms around himself beneath Ser Addam's cloak. Sansa gathered Jaime against her, wrapping her arms around him and kissing his icy brow as Jon and Ser Addam gave the boat a shove toward the ship. One of the soldiers gave her a fur to wrap around him. "We don't have far to go," Sansa whispered against his ear, wincing at how cold he was. It was a lie. She had no idea how much farther they had to go, as it was nearly pitch black out and snow was beginning to fall on them. But she didn't want him to lose hope. Sansa wrapped the fur around Jaime's shoulders, though she knew that what he needed most was to get out of his wet, frozen clothes. "Just hold on a little longer, Jaime," she whispered.

Jaime was lying across her lap, freezing and miserable, as the soldiers slowly rowed them further out to sea. Sansa fearfully looked upward, expecting to see a dragon breathing its fire down on them at any moment. _They're tied down. The dragons can't harm us._ Sansa reminded herself that there was no reason to worry – Jon would not have allowed her to get into the boat if there was a possibility that she'd be burned to death. The howling wind caused the small rowboat to lurch back and forth violently – so much so that Sansa began to feel sick. She closed her eyes and held tightly to Jaime and Julianna. The babe was whining fearfully, as the angry water tossed their boat back and forth.

"Can't we go any faster?" Sansa asked her guards anxiously.

"We can barely see ten feet in front of us, my lady. If we row any faster, we could crash into the ship. We're getting there as quickly as possible, Lady Lannister, be assured of that." Sansa leaned over and kissed Jaime's brow. His eyes were closed and she could see that he was fighting the cold. _He's freezing to death. _Sansa spoke quietly to Jaime as they slowly progressed out into the sea. Even wrapped in furs, the freezing water from Jaime's clothes was seeping into her skirt, chilling her legs, though she didn't much care. _Jaime's suffering far more than I. _Sansa stared ahead as she rubbed her hands over Jaime, kissing him and trying to warm him as best she could.

She had not seen the ship Jaime had purchased for their voyage to the Free Cities. As it came into view, Sansa was astonished at the massive ship. _We could live on the ship forever, it's so enormous._ "We're here, Jaime. I'll get you warm very soon," she whispered, though her eyes were roaming over their ship, the likes of which she had never seen. It was nearly as large as the massive war ships she had seen from the windows of Maeger's Holdfast during the Battle of Blackwater. It was dark, but she could see the sails were red, and she saw that there were several oars coming out of the sides of the ship. _I wonder if Jaime's men know how to sail this ship. _As the rowboat slowed to a stop at the foot of the massive vessel, one other rowboat bobbed beside them in the water, and a rope ladder led the way onto the deck of the ship. Sansa tipped her head up and her heart sank as she saw how far they had to climb to board the ship.

_How on earth is Jaime supposed to climb that in his current state, with only one hand? How am I to climb it?_ Jaime groaned and struggled to sit upright.

"La - Lady Sansa w..w…will climb first," he managed to stutter out between shivers.

"Why me first?"

"If you slip, there are- there are p-plenty of us to catch you."

"Who will catch you?" she whispered, resting her hands on his cheeks. He was so pale and Sansa feared he was too weak for the climb up to the deck of the ship. Not even to mention that he only had one hand. The thought of them coming so close, only to fail now, terrified her.

"Don't worry for m-me, sweet girl. Get yourself and Julianna to the top. Don't- Don't look down. Don't look back at me. P-Promise me."

She nodded. "Promise me I'll see you at the top," she said, hearing her voice waver in fear.

"I promise," he whispered. Jaime shakily parted Sansa's cloak and kissed the babe's head before kissing Sansa full on the mouth. "I-I love you, Sansa."

She hugged him tightly. "I love you, too, Jaime," she whispered against his neck before taking one of the guard's hands as he helped her grip the rope ladder.

"Slowly and steady, my lady," he said quietly. "You'll do fine. And we'll make certain Lord Lannister makes it to the top." Sansa took a deep breath and checked the bindings holding Julianna against her chest before she began to carefully climb to the top. She wanted more than anything to see how Jaime fared, but she was so afraid of falling that she forced herself to concentrate on the task at hand. The wind was blowing hard and the ladder was shifting from side to side, making it impossible to move quickly. Even the slow pace she was traveling at was exhausting her, as she fought the wind and cold. She stopped for a moment to catch her breath and felt the ladder pull down a bit, telling her that someone else had begun to climb. As she held herself steady, Sansa carefully glanced down and saw that Jaime had begun his climb, though once she saw how high she was, Sansa wished she'd not looked down.

"Ma…ma…" Sansa smiled down at Julianna as she tried to get her attention.

"We're almost safe, sweetling," she whispered. Sansa wanted to wait for Jaime to catch up with her, but she heard him urging her to keep climbing. She sighed, wishing she could help him somehow, but she resolutely continued to climb the rope ladder. Sansa finally reached the top rung and felt strong arms lift her onto the deck of the ship. She murmured her thanks and lifted her eyes, expecting to see a red cloak, but instead, met the eyes of a man, dressed all in black, that she did not recognize. He was older than Jaime, though he had the look of a knight.

"You couldn't possibly be anyone but Lady Sansa," he said, studying her face.

She felt nervous under his gaze, though Julianna's whining distracted her. "Shh…it's all right, Julianna." She pulled at the fastenings that bound her daughter against her chest and allowed her a bit more freedom to move. The man watched her closely as she kissed the babe's head. He was making her uneasy and Sansa wanted to ask who he was, but she was more concerned with Jaime. She moved toward the railings, watching as Jaime climbed towards the top.

Pia appeared at her side and took the babe from her arms, quietly assuring her that she would take Julianna somewhere warm, below deck with Tommen. Sansa nodded her thanks, turning her attention back to Jaime. He lost his footing a few times, terrifying her each time, though he quickly recovered. She knew that it was only sheer stubbornness that allowed him to make this climb, despite how much he must be suffering physically.

As Jaime reached the top of the ladder, Sansa moved toward him, to help him onto the deck, but the man in black gently moved her aside and pulled Jaime onto the deck himself. Sansa winced as her husband nearly collapsed in a heap onto the deck of the ship. She knelt beside him and wrapped her arm around his waist. Jaime took the help she offered, leaning heavily against her as she helped him to his feet, his head resting atop hers.

"What in the seven hells are you doing here?" Jaime ground out as he looked warily at the man. Sansa noticed that Jaime reached for his sword before realizing that he wasn't armed.

"You look like hell, Lannister. Even worse than the last time I saw you. Fell into the drink, did you?" Sansa held Jaime tighter, wondering who the man was and now fearing that he might be a threat to them.

"What are you doing here," Jaime repeated.

"The Imp's men found me down by the harbor a few days ago – when the dragon girl began her siege. It took me some time to reach Lannisport from the Riverlands by sea, but…I made it. He agreed not to throw me in the dungeons with the Northerners if I waited on your ship, and helped him when he needed it." The stranger was still looking at Sansa intently, searching her face, and she clutched Jaime tighter.

"You're sc-scaring your niece, Tully," Jaime managed with yet another shiver. Sansa realized then that the man was her mother's Uncle Brynden. _The Blackfish._ She remembered how he had threatened and insulted Jaime during the siege at Riverrun and stepped in front of Jaime, hoping that would stop the old knight from harming him, though the man chuckled at her action.

"Don't worry, girl, I don't plan to kill your husband…even if he has earned it many times over. I struck a bargain with the Imp – the Kingslayer's freedom for Cat and Edmure's. Your certain you wish to go with him, girl? To live in exile?"

"Yes."

"And your mother? She's sanctioned this?"

"I'm a woman grown," Sansa said, standing a bit taller. "And he's my lord husband and the father of my daughter. My place is by his side."

He nodded gravely. "You may not resemble your father physically but…you have his sense of duty."

"Will you help my mother escape?" she asked quietly, as her guards climbed up onto the deck and began dispersing throughout the ship, preparing for their voyage.

"Aye. I came here to get Catelyn and Edmure their freedom. I'd planned to liberate you as well but…it seems my help is not needed. You go on with your husband and your babe…the Imp says you're all in danger of being burned alive by dragons if you remain." He took her hand and kissed it. "I'm glad we've finally met, Lady Sansa. I've heard much about you, your whole life. You look about to keel over, Kingslayer. I'll let your lady wife attend you."

"Raise the anchor and set sail," the Blackfish called out to the red cloaks, climbing down over the side, and swinging into the rowboat they had just arrived in.

Jaime seemed to deflate a bit once the Blackfish left and the stubbornness that had fueled his climb wore off. He began trembling violently once again and Sansa turned her attention back to him, resting her hand on the back of his neck. "I have to get you warm. You're hurting aren't you?" She could see that the cold and pain from the injuries he had inflicted on himself while he was held prisoner in the dungeon were beginning to set in. She knew Jaime must be suffering badly when he didn't disagree with her, as he normally would refuse to admit any weakness.

"Is there anything I can do to help, m'lady?" Gendry gripped Jaime's other side, helping Sansa keep him upright. "Pia sent me up here. She said you might need help with Lord Lannister."

"We need to get Jaime into bed and warm him as quickly as possible."

Sansa and Gendry helped Jaime down the narrow stairs leading to the staterooms. Sansa was vaguely aware of the gentle movement of the ship as they began to sail away from Casterly Rock, and toward their new life in the Free Cities. _At least we're on our way to freedom._ She glanced up at Jaime and sighed, kissing his cheek. _Now I just have to make certain Jaime is all right. _After some struggling, Sansa and Gendry got Jaime into their stateroom and onto the bed. "Is there anything else I can do to help, Lady Lannister?"

Sansa shook her head. "Thank you, Gendry. I appreciate you for helping us as you have."

"Thank you, m'lady. For allowing me to come with you." Gendry had walked with Tommen and Pia up from the forge, carrying Tommen's kittens. When he saw Sansa, he had asked if he might be allowed accompany them to the Free Cities, since Jaime had told him that the Targaryen Queen might execute him if she learned who he was. Sansa had not hesitated to allow him to accompany them, remembering how he had helped Jaime survive after he was injured fighting the White Walkers. "If there's nothing else I can do, I'll go back below deck and help the men with the ship."

Sansa nodded, turning her attention to Jaime. She knew she had to get him out of his wet clothes if she had any hope of warming him up. Sansa threw off her cape and sat on the bed, unlacing his boots. Pia shoved some hot rocks, wrapped in cloth, along the foot of the bed, and placed a kettle on the table beside the bed. "Tommen and the babe are in the little room adjoining yours. He's playing with her. I'm afraid we cannot light the fires yet, m'lady, other than the small cooking fire in the kitchen. Is there anything else I can do?"

Sansa shook her head, removing Ser Addam's cloak from Jaime's shoulder. "No. Thank you." She removed Jaime's tunic – which was practically frozen to his body - and saw that his skin was no longer golden but pale, with a sickly blue beneath the skin. He also had many bruises, though those were the least of her concern at the moment. Jaime's eyes were closed as he continued shuddering from the cold, and she quickly unlaced his breeches and pulled them off his legs. Once Jaime had been stripped naked, she helped him under the large pile of furs, and gently removed the golden hand, which was cold as ice. Sansa piled more furs on top of him as he curled up in a ball beneath them.

"J-J-Join me, S-Sansa," he whispered, shaking violently.

"I will, Jaime," she murmured, smiling softly. She knew enough from growing up in the North that the heat from her body would warm him quickly. Growing up she'd heard Northern boys joke about throwing themselves into the icy river so that a pretty girl might have to lie naked with them, and warm them up. _He's lucky I'm a northerner. I know how to take care of him. _"First, I want to get some of this hot ale in you, Jaime. It will warm you from the inside." She poured him a cup from the steaming kettle beside the bed. Sansa propped Jaime up against some pillows and pulled the furs and blankets up to his chin. "Drink slowly," she said, holding the cup to his lips and resting her free hand on the back of his neck.

"I can do it," he said, grasping the cup with his shaking hand and using his stump to steady it a bit.

"I wish you weren't so stubborn," she said, pulling the furs up over his shoulders. "Drink all of it," she whispered, kissing the top of his head.

She stuck her head in the adjoining room and saw that Tommen was lying down on a small bed that was low to the ground. Julianna had curled up next to him. The kittens were at his feet and he was sleepily talking to her about what he'd seen in the forge, though Sansa could see Julianna was almost dead asleep, her hands clutching Tommen's tunic. _They'll be all right together for the night. _She was glad that brother and sister were together and finding comfort in one another.

Sansa pulled the door most of the way closed and then returned to Jaime, stripping off her own clothes by the side of the bed. It wasn't terribly warm inside the stateroom, due to the lack of fire, but it was much warmer than outside. She saw Jaime watching her as she removed her clothes.

"I wish I could enjoy this more," he murmured with a smirk, as she pulled her shift over her head, exposing her breasts, and his eyes roamed over her near-naked body. "Though the sight of you has raised my temperature a bit."

She saw that he could barely hold the cup in his hand and shook her head. Sansa quickly removed her smallclothes before she slipped under the furs beside Jaime. She poured him another cup of ale and held it for him to drink. She gently kissed his temple and ran her free hand back and forth over his shoulders, trying to warm his cold skin. "We can't light the fires yet…we're still too close to the Rock and they could see the flames in the darkness," she whispered regretfully. He quickly swallowed down the entire cup and then Sansa urged him to lie down. Jaime rested his head on her shoulder as she stroked his hair and brought her legs up to wrap around his waist. "I love you so much, Jaime," she whispered. "I know you're going to be all right."

"I love you too, sweet girl," he said weakly, kissing her shoulder. Despite his freezing state, she felt his hand moving over the bare skin of her back. _He's still so cold. _Sansa almost felt like she was going to start shaking herself from cold as she shared her body heat with him. She felt so safe in his arms, despite the dire circumstances, that she didn't even care. She and Jaime held each other as tightly as possible. She smiled as Jaime burrowed against her, nestling his head beneath the furs, against her breasts.

He began softly kissing her breasts as he held her tightly. "You should save your energy," she said, sighing in pleasure, though she thought perhaps he did not feel as miserable as she had thought.

"I thought the point was to make me warmer…this is certainly succeeding," he whispered weakly. Before she could respond, Jaime rolled onto his back, pulling Sansa so she covered his body, her thighs straddling his hips. She stroked his hair as she lay sprawled on his chest. She felt his stump against her lower back as he tightened his grip on her with his right arm, while his left hand roamed over her bottom. "For once I'm the ice and you're the fire."

"Are you feeling warmer? Truly."

He kissed her softly and she felt him practically melt into the mattress, as he prepared to sleep for the night. "My circumstances at present are much improved from what they were, now that I have you in my arms."

"You're still so cold. Try to stay awake and talk to me for a while…until you're warmer. People die from cold all the time in the North. And you're not used to the cold."

His eyes were closed, but he nodded faintly. "I'm rather glad you grew up in the frozen tundra of the North," he murmured, pressing a kiss to her temple. "My sweet girl…" Sansa wrapped her arms around his shoulders, and tucked her head beneath his chin, and continued to speak quietly to him until she was satisfied that it was safe to allow sleep to claim him.

…

_No cliffhanger :) As always, let me know your thoughts. I know many of you want to see Jaime and Sansa as Lord and Lady of Casterly Rock and...who knows. The story's not over yet. Rather than just follow Jaime and Sansa there will be a few short chapters from other character's perspectives set in Westeros, covering what's going on in the Realm, while Jaime and Sansa are making their way to the Free Cities._

_Next chapter: Jaime and Sansa's disappearance, and that of the other hostages – including the Northerners – is discovered_


	84. Chapter 84

_Warning: Adult content towards the end_

…

Chapter 84

Awareness slowly began to seep into Jaime's mind. The last thing he remembered was lying beneath the furs with Sansa's arms and legs tangled around him, as she tried to raise his body temperature. Jaime had never felt so cold in his entire life. And he had little doubt he'd be dead if Sansa had not known how to care for him. When he sank beneath the water, Jaime had felt the life slowly leave his body. It wasn't until she held him, allowing her warmth - her life - to slowly seep into his body, and replace the icy cold, that Jaime thought he might survive.

Sansa had been wary of letting him sleep at first – for fear that he was still too cold, and might not wake up. She had softly kissed him and spoken of what awaited them in the Free Cities, where it was always warm and no one wanted to harm them. Jaime could hear the happiness in her voice when they discussed the future. She spoke of the dreams of a young girl who believed in true knights, songs of great love and great heroes, and happy endings.

Now he was alone in bed as the ship gently rocked back and forth. He saw that there was a fire burning in the small wood-burning stove in their stateroom and realized what it meant. _We must have traveled some distance from the Rock, if the fires have been lit. We escaped. _Jaime shivered and pulled the furs tighter around his body. Though the room was warm, he still felt a chill deep down in his bones.

As he lay there, Jaime wondered how Tyrion planned to explain his and Sansa's disappearance to the Targaryen girl. _He should have come with us. His life is worth far more than whatever power the girl may grant him. _Though, Jaime wondered if Tyrion would agree with him on that point. He didn't understand why his brother had returned to Westeros. Jaime had given him his life when he released him from the dungeons of King's Landing - securing his passage to the Free Cities, knowing that Cersei would put a price on his head. Yet, it seemed Tyrion had put all his energy into returning to Westeros at the side of a Queen. He had put all his energy into re-entering the game of thrones, after barely escaping with his life.

_Lady Genna was right. Tyrion is Lord Tywin's son. Far more than I ever could have been._ Jaime could only hope that Tyrion's quest for power would not get him killed. _I owe him my life. And the lives of Sansa and the children._ He hoped he would have the chance to see his brother again and repair their relationship. _At least he doesn't wish me dead._

Jaime forced himself to sit up, gingerly leaning against the pillows. He saw Sansa watching him from the doorway of the adjoining room, with a soft smile on her face. Clad in only her shift, with a pale blue shawl over her shoulders, her hair fell in long russet waves to the middle of her back. _My beautiful girl. _She was holding Julianna in her arms – their babe that looked just like Sansa in miniature – and Tommen was peeking out behind her hip.

He saw that Jaime was awake and smiled, running towards the bed and throwing himself into Jaime's arms. "Are you better now, Uncle Jaime? Sansa said you fell into the water when you left Casterly Rock and were very cold."

Jaime smiled, his eyes holding Sansa's as he returned the boy's embrace. "I feel much better now. Though I still feel a chill...I'd be warmer if Sansa and Julianna joined us here in bed."

Her smile widened and she crossed the room, climbing under the furs. The babe was smiling and seemed happy to be with her family. "She's been asking for you…at least I think so," Sansa said, quietly. She stroked her fingers through his hair and studied his face for a moment before softly kissing him. While they were distracted, Julianna crawled onto Jaime's lap, patting her hands against his chest to get his attention.

Jaime smiled down at the little cherub in his lap who squealed in excitement when she met his eyes. He leaned over and kissed her forehead, smelling her baby smell and closed his eyes. When the Unsullied dragged him away to the dungeons, he had truly believed he'd never hold his daughter again_._ He stared into the green eyes that matched his own, chuckling as Julianna leaned forward to return his kiss, pressing her lips against his. She giggled and cuddled against his chest when he called her "little lioness." _My precious baby girl._ Jaime shifted his gaze to Tommen and met eyes that were just as green as his own and Julianna's. He doubted anyone would question that Tommen shared their blood. He ruffled his son's hair, and saw Tommen's pleasure at the affectionate gesture.

"It's been many days since we last saw one another, Tommen. Not since we brought you to Gendry down in the forge," Jaime said quietly. Jaime felt Sansa drape a warm woolen blanket over his back and shoulders.

"You have to stay warm," she whispered, kissing him just above his ear.

Jaime knew he wasn't completely well, but he no longer felt as if he were about to die. He shifted Julianna's position, letting her lean against his chest as he spoke to Tommen. "Sansa and I both missed seeing you every day."

"I missed you, too, Uncle. I prayed every night that we would all be together again, like Sansa said to. And Gendry taught me how to make a sword. Well…he made it and I watched. He wouldn't let me get too near the fires." Tommen looked at Jaime fearfully. "Are we safe from the dragons now?"

Jaime nodded. "We're so far out to sea that the dragons can't even see us. If you go on the deck of the ship, you'll see nothing but water. That's how far we are from the Rock."

"Like we disappeared?"

Jaime smiled. "Exactly like that."

"How long will we stay on the boat?"

"We have a long journey ahead of us, Tommen. It will be many weeks until we reach the Free Cities. There should be some maps in the captain's quarters…perhaps in a few days we can look at them to see where we'll be traveling. You can even keep track of our progress." Tommen nodded enthusiastically, a happy smile on his face. "I saw that you brought your kittens with you."

"They slept with me and Julianna last night and kept us warm until Pia lit the stove. Ser Pounce is Julianna's favorite."

"I was thinking of putting her bed in your room, so you can keep each other company during our journey. Would you like that?" Sansa asked as she absently rubbed her hand against the back of Jaime's neck and shoulders.

He nodded. "I can hold her hand, if she gets scared." Jaime smiled at how much the boy cared for little Julianna. He knew that the boy would always be good to her. "I'm glad we can be a family again," Tommen whispered hesitantly, as if he were afraid to call them a family.

Jaime frequently looked at Julianna and wondered how he had any part in creating something so sweet and innocent. So perfect. Now, he realized that she wasn't the first. _Tommen is part of me, too. And just as sweet as his sister. _Jaime hugged Tommen against his side, glad he was granted the chance to know him and raise him. He still felt a twinge of discomfort when he was with Tommen – as if he were doing something wrong - but Jaime forced himself to push those old feelings aside. He knew his uneasiness was the result of so many years of Cersei telling him that he could not show the children any affection.

Jaime nodded affirmatively. "We are a family. And we won't be separated again." Tommen hugged him tightly around his neck and Jaime gently rubbed the golden hand over the boy's back.

Sansa smiled softly when she saw Tommen's obvious happiness at Jaime's attention. He saw that she had gathered together a bowl of water and some clean linens. She took Jaime's hand in her own, and he winced as she began to clean the broken skin on his knuckles.

"What are you doing to Uncle Jaime's hand?"

"He hurt himself, and I didn't get the chance to tend to it last night…it seemed more important to get you warm," she murmured quietly. "Tommen, if you get dressed, we can go up on the deck and look at the water, like you wanted. Dress very warm - I don't want you to freeze in the cold as Jaime did. There's a trunk beside your bed with all of your clothes inside."

He nodded in excitement and scrambled into his little bedchamber. Jaime watched her silently as she gently cleaned and dressed his wound. "Are you all right, Sansa?"

She nodded. "I was afraid for you. You're still not completely well," she said quickly. "Please don't fight me. You have to keep warm, so you don't catch fever and-"

He leaned over and kissed her. "You take good care of me," he said softly. He knew how terrified she must have been. He loved her just as much as she loved him. And he couldn't bring himself to even consider the possibility of losing her. "And you're very brave, Sansa. I'm sorry…that it was such a harrowing escape. You made very proud…to see how strong you are."

"I'd have endured…much worse if it meant we would be here now. Only yesterday, I thought I'd never be in your arms again…I thought I'd have to watch you die. I was so afraid we wouldn't escape and…that we'd only have had a short time together. But now…we've been given our whole lives to spend together. We'll be able to raise her together," she said, nodding at the babe in his lap. Jaime leaned back against the pillows and smiled, seeing her eyes fill will happy tears.

"Mama," Julianna squeaked, reaching up to touch Sansa's face, her chin quivering at the sight of her mother's tears.

"She's all right," he said soothingly to the babe. "Come here," he whispered, folding Sansa and Julianna into his arms. It felt so good to hold his girls in his arms, knowing that they were safe and happy. Knowing that he had a long future ahead with Sansa. Jaime knew that the little family he and Sansa had made for themselves was worth more than any throne or castle.

_We were right to leave Westeros. _

…..

"How could this happen? Tell me how the Kingslayer could escape from a locked cell in a castle surrounded by thousands guards? A castle I was _assured_ was secure!"

Tyrion and Jon shared a glance as the Queen raged and paced up and down the Great Hall. "Perhaps my brother learned a bit of magic," Tyrion said dryly, thought it was clear Daenerys was not amused.

"And his wife, his child, and all of the Kingslayer's hostages? They've all disappeared in the night." She ran her hand through her hair, nearly shaking with rage and looked to Jon Snow. "I did believe you when you said that Lady Stark and her brother were hostages. That they were hostile to the Lannisters, but now, I cannot believe it. The Starks and the Tullys joined with the Lannisters to betray House Targaryen before. They conspired to steal my father's throne. I _will not_ allow them to steal mine!"

Tyrion could see that the girl was working herself up into a rage. He was glad the dragons were outside Casterly Rock, and not at her immediate command. _She might burn the Rock to the ground in her current state. _

Tyrion had waited for Brynden Tully to make his way into the dungeons of the Rock – the Blackfish having promised to ensure that Jaime and Sansa were safely on their way before he did so. Once he was satisfied that the old knight had fulfilled his end of their bargain, Tyrion had turned over the key to the Northmen's cells, as well as a sack of gold dragons, before the man left with Ned Stark's bastard. Ser Brynden seemed wary of the boy at first, though his reticence lessened after Jon Snow had said that seeing Arya and Lady Stark – as well as the other Northmen – to safety was something he owed his father. Tyrion had returned to his chamber and knew not the specifics of their escape. All he knew was that by morning, they were all gone.

When a new group of Unsullied entered Casterly Rock, intending to relieve the soldiers who had been standing guard – and were killed - during Jaime and Sansa's escape the red cloaks that Tyrion now commanded had swiftly killed them before they got much farther inside than the Lion's Mouth. All of the bodies were tossed into the Sunset Sea. Tyrion wagered that every maid and kitchen worker in the Rock assisted with cleaning up the blood and erasing every trace of the battles that had occurred during Jaime's escape. All while the Queen and her entourage were under the effects of a rather potent dream wine served at dinner.

The escape was only noticed when, after breaking her fast, Daenerys had ordered that preparations begin for her return to the capitol. When two of the Unsullied went to the dungeons to get Jaime, so he could be put in the cage he would travel in, the alarm had gone up. But Tyrion knew that Jaime and Sansa were far beyond the Queen's reach by then.

"Your grace," Ser Barristan said gently. "After the so-called Red Wedding and…the destruction Walder Frey and Tywin Lannister inflicted on House Stark and House Tully, I feel certain that there is no such alliance. Lady Sansa may be wed to Ser Jaime-"

"The Kingslayer!" she snarled. "He is no 'Ser.'"

"Lady Sansa's marriage does not mean her family is allied with the Lannisters."

It seemed the Lord Commander could not remain silent any longer. "Lady Stark would never forgive those who killed her husband and son. Just as I won't ever forgive it. The North will never forget what happened at the Twins." He spoke so gravely that, even knowing better, Tyrion could almost believe that Jon Snow had nothing to do with Jaime's escape.

"How else do you explain how they all escaped – without a trace – on the same night?" She looked at Tyrion expectantly.

"I would say they had some help," he murmured, putting down his cup of wine. Tyrion mused that Ser Addam was fortunate the Queen did not know of his lifelong friendship with Jaime, or else he would surely be facing the same barrage of questions and rage that they were – if not immediate imprisonment. Tyrion knew it was only the hatred the Queen had seen in his eyes when he spoke of what happened to Tysha that kept him from a dungeon cell.

"Exactly," Danerys said. "Someone must have helped them."

"Why do you look at me, your grace? I'm still here, waiting to serve you. I've done everything you have asked, to prove my loyalty to you. It's Baelish who's disappeared…_with them_. Perhaps that explains his insistence on Lady Sansa as a bride. It gave him access to her chamber, so he could help her escape." _I'll have to remember to thank my good sister, when I see her next. Her disposal of Littlefinger just may save my life. It was most convenient._

"Lord Baelish still has not been located?" she asked Ser Jorah in annoyance. Daenerys had been most insistent that Littlefinger would not have helped them escape. That he would not have betrayed her so. She was certain that he must have interrupted the escape, and was restrained or dead somewhere in the castle. _She is stubbornly loyal. I suppose it's a virtue._

"He is not in the castle. The Unsullied have searched from the deepest dungeon to the top of the battlements. Your grace, you may need to consider that he has betrayed you."

"Why would he do such a thing? As Hand, he would have been the most powerful man in the Realm. There is nothing more he could ask for. Nothing anyone could offer to tempt him."

"I never knew Baelish well," Tyrion ventured, "But he has always bragged of his lifetime…relationship with Lady Stark. Perhaps it was simple affection that made him help Lady Stark and her daughters disappear."

"How did they escape?" she repeated, her eyes filling with rage. "You assured me that there was no way in or out of the Rock, once we took it. Is this not your childhood home?"

"It is, your grace. And there is no secret exit, if that is what you are asking. I expect they walked out through the Lion's Mouth. With Baelish on their side…he could have engineered nearly anything."

"They were all guarded!"

"And it appears those guards have disappeared."

She shook her head defiantly. "The Unsullied would never betray me."

"Khaleesi," Ser Jorah began, "You gave them freedom. Perhaps too much. They no longer blindly follow orders and…Baelish could have offered them something they could not resist." Tyrion was surprised Ser Jorah was not taking this opportunity to be rid of him, but he supposed it was Littlefinger who was the greater threat. _Perhaps he does not want to take the chance that the man will return and continue to lead her astray. He does love her so. Even if she does not acknowledge it._

"Ser Jorah, take a search party and scour the countryside. I want them found and brought back. And let it be known that a lordship will be given to anyone who brings me the Kingslayer or Lord Baelish. Dead or alive." _I'll have to send word to Jaime and Sansa somehow. So they know mercenaries may be after them. _

Tyrion saw Ser Barristan looking at him and knew the old knight suspected he had helped Jaime to escape. _As well he should. Jaime is my brother. He and I are the only ones left. _Tyrion wondered why Ser Barristan wasn't speaking up. _Why isn't he helping his Queen?_ He certainly wasn't a fan of Jaime's after he killed Aerys. Though, the old knight did not seem to approve of the Queen's decision as to Jaime and Sansa's fates. He recalled that Ser Barristan had been present when Sansa begged the Queen for Jaime's life. _Perhaps she touched the old Lord Commander, if not his Queen._

Once Daenerys dismissed him to return to his chamber, Tyrion left quickly. Ser Addam waited in the hall, and Tyrion signaled for him to follow. They did not speak a word until reaching Tyrion's solar. "Addam, I wish you to summon every singer in the Westerlands."

"Forgive me, Tyrion, but…singers, did you say?"

"Yes. I fancy a song or two. And I'm certain the smallfolk crave new songs of love and bravery after these years of war." _Perhaps a song about a knight of the Kingsguard who gave it up for the love of a sweet maiden of the North. Or a tale of a Southern lord leading his men against the White Walkers, to save the Realm._

Tyrion thought about what his father had done after Jaime killed the Mad King. Lord Tywin had always stubbornly clung to the belief that Jaime was to be his heir – despite the vows he made when joining the Kingsguard. And he certainly would not allow anyone to think ill of Jaime. No one dared call Jaime "Kingslayer" in their father's presence. And once the war was over, Lord Tywin had ensured that not a single man, woman or child in Lannisport believed Jaime had done anything more than given Aerys exactly what he deserved when he shoved that sword through his back.

From what Ser Addam told him, Tyrion knew that the people of Lannisport already loved their lord and lady absolutely. Both because of Jaime's brave stand against the White Walkers and because of the kind inquiries and food Sansa had sent to all those living in Lannisport at the start of Winter. Tyrion expected the same sentiment existed in the rest of the Westerlands. Now, he simply needed to convince the rest of the Realm. _It's time our young Queen learns what sways the people she seeks to rule._

"And send a raven to Lady Genna at Riverrun. I expect Ser Kevan sought refuge there, as well, when he fled the capitol. Let them know that it's likely the Dragon Queen – or the Tullys – will try to retake Riverrun by force. They best flee, if they wish to keep their lives. Tell them that…they are both welcome to take refuge here. I won't be here, if that reassures them at all."

He knew how much his aunt and uncle had loved Lord Tywin. _They likely hate me for what I did. _Tyrion wondered if they knew all his father had done to him. He wondered if they knew what happened to Tysha. They certainly knew how his father had despised him since the moment of his birth.

"You won't be here? You're Lord of Casterly Rock, by the Queen's own proclamation."

He shook his head. Tyrion had thought that what he wanted more than anything was to be Lord Tywin's heir. To be Lord of the Rock. But it didn't make him feel like a Lannister. It didn't feel right. _The Rock is Jaime's. It's always been for Jaime._

"I plan to travel to King's Landing with the Queen. It's the best hope of earning Jaime's pardon."

_And, thanks to Sansa, the Queen does need a new Hand… _

…

Jaime spent the first day at sea in their stateroom, huddled under the furs and playing with Julianna. Sansa had plopped the babe down on the bed beside him, along with several toys she'd made her, before putting on her heavy cloak, and bundling Tommen up as well. They were gone for several hours, exploring the ship and meeting the crew from Lannisport. Tommen had returned with bright eyes and excited stories about what he had seen.

When it was time for the children to go to bed for the night, Jaime ended the day as he began it – with Julianna in his arms. It still made him wonder, when he thought of how much his life had changed. He'd gone from serving a King and Queen – having nothing for himself – to a life where he could spend the whole day doing nothing more taxing than playing with his baby girl. _I wonder what Lord Tywin would think if he could see his heir now. Abandoning the Rock and any chance for power – all for the love of his wife and children._

Jaime looked down and saw that the babe was tired, as her little eyelids drooped, but she continued softly babbling to him, though only a fraction of what she said was recognizable as actual words. Jaime smiled down at her and listened through the open door as Sansa told Tommen a bedtime story. _She's a good mother to him._ _He deserves a mother like Sansa._

"You don't mind sharing her with Tommen, do you?" he whispered to the babe. "She has more than enough love for all of us."

He held the babe against his chest, her little head tucked beneath his chin. He smiled as she tightly gripped the loose tunic Sansa had insisted he wear, still worried that he might catch cold. "Dada," she said softly against his neck, and Jaime held his girl tighter, stroking her hair until she fell asleep. Just as he did with Sansa.

He carefully rose from the bed when the babe fell asleep and carried her to the children's room. Sansa had finished her story and was tucking Tommen into bed. He wrapped his arms around her neck and hugged her tightly. "I love you, Sansa."

"I love you, too, Tommen." He smiled and Sansa kissed his forehead, patting the kittens that were sleeping in the small basket beside him.

"Good night, Uncle," Tommen said quietly, having noticed Jaime's presence.

"Good night," Jaime said softly, placing the babe in the little crib that Pia had moved into Tommen's room. Sansa appeared at his side and fussed over the babe until she was satisfied that Julianna was secure for the night. She took Jaime's hand and led him from the room, closing the door behind them.

Once they were alone in their stateroom, Sansa turned her attention to Jaime, pressing her hand to his forehead and his cheeks, checking his temperature. "I feel much better," he murmured sitting down on the bed and keeping his grip on her hand. "You worry too much."

She smiled, running her hand over his golden locks. "I can't help it. I'm afraid that something will happen to you. You're not a Northerner, you don't know how dangerous a fall into freezing water can be. You could have died." She poured another cup of hot spiced ale from the kettle that she had kept filled throughout the day, and handed it to him.

Sansa had insisted that he stay bundled up beneath the blankets and that he drink enough of the hot beverage to keep himself warm and chase away any fever before it set in. Though as he swallowed down this cup, Jaime began to feel a soft haze set over him as the alcohol built up in his system. Not that he was too far in his cups – it was more a pleasant, warm feeling allover that slightly clouded his mind. He put the cup down and allowed his eyes to roam over her figure, visible in the candlelight through the light shift and dressing gown she wore.

He felt even more intoxicated as a wave of desire for her slowly washed over him. Jaime pulled his tunic off, dropping it on the ground, and saw her mouth open in protest – no doubt worried he would catch a chill. "I've decided that you're right, sweet girl. I think I would benefit from more time in bed. With you. Naked. Purely to raise my body temperature." He rose to his feet and slowly slid the pale grey dressing gown from her shoulders, smiling with approval at the tantalizing view of her cleavage her shift afforded him.

The last time they made love, they had both thought it would be the last time. Now, he knew that she was his forever. He knew that he would have her in his bed for years to come. Sansa rested her hands on his shoulders and moved closer to him, so her breasts brushed against him through the thin fabric covering her. He lowered his head, his lips meeting hers. They shared several soft kisses before she moved her mouth to his neck. "How do you feel?" she whispered against his skin.

"Quite warm," he replied, with a low rumbling in his throat.

She kissed his neck again before whispering in his ear. "Good…I don't want you to catch cold." Jaime groaned as her hands seductively moved down over his chest, and her mouth followed. His arousal became even more intense as she licked and kissed his chest, and slid her hands to his waist, playing with the loose string at his waistband. He felt her smile against him before she spoke. "Your skin still feels a bit cool...perhaps I can do something about that." She glanced up at him, with a mischievous look in her eye as she slid the linen pants over his hips, letting them drop to the floor.

His cock was hard and straining towards her, though Sansa deliberately ignored the place he wanted her to touch most, instead sliding her hands over his hips and arse. She moved her fingers in slow circles that both aroused and tortured him. Jaime closed his eyes and began to breathe heavily. Waiting. She finally relieved him of his suffering, closing her small, delicate hand over his length and slowly and deliberately stroking back and forth. Jaime bucked against her hand, forcing himself to keep control over the haze of arousal and intoxication that swirled around him as she touched him so intimately.

He opened his eyes and found her watching him, a smile playing at her lips. "You seem a bit flushed, Jaime," she said innocently. "Are you feeling warmer?"

Instead of answering he lifted her into his arms and climbed on the bed, sitting with her straddling his lap. She watched as he began sliding her shift up her legs until it pooled at her hips, and then began softly kissing him. Jaime growled deep in his throat as he ran his hands – real and false - over her milky white thighs, slowly creeping beneath the gossamer fabric to rest low on her waist, his fingers splayed across her bare skin. Sansa broke their kiss briefly to pull her shift over her head and toss it aside. _Gods, she's magnificent._ He allowed himself the pleasure at staring at her naked body, and smiled when she blushed.

He ducked his head, resting against her neck, lightly sucking and nipping at her. "I love you, sweet girl," he murmured. Sansa tangled the fingers of one hand in his hair and slowly lowered her head back, giving him better access to her skin, and Jaime took full advantage moving his mouth to her breasts, kissing and suckling on her nipples.

She dug her nails into his shoulders and slowly raised her head, pushing him back against the pillows. He groaned as she attached her mouth to the space between his neck and shoulder, sucking and biting him. Marking him as her own. "I love you. Take me, Jaime…Take what's yours," she whispered.

That was all he needed to hear, after she was very nearly taken away from her. He rolled them over so she was on her back and settled himself between her thighs. Jaime kissed her thoroughly before positioning himself at her entrance and pushing inside her warmth. She wrapped her legs around him, her heels resting low on his back, as he fully sheathed himself inside her. Sansa reached for him, pulling his head down so she could kiss him as he began rolling his hips against hers. The stateroom was filled with their moans and the sound of flesh moving against flesh.

"I feared we would never be together like this again." She whispered it against his neck. She said it so quietly that he almost did not hear. Jaime met her eyes and felt such emotion it almost hurt him to look at her. He thought of the last time they had sex. The night before the Queen sentenced him to die. He remembered how tearful they had both been. How desperately they had clung to one another, thinking it was their last time in each other's arms.

Jaime shifted his body and grasped her hips, changing his position to bring her to completion. He wanted to see her pleasure. _She deserves nothing but pleasure and happiness._ "Come for me, sweet girl," he murmured, increasing the speed of his thrusts and breathing heavily to hold off his own pleasure. He licked the pad of his thumb and reached between them, circling her pleasure spot until she jerked in his arms and opened her mouth in a silent scream of bliss. He moaned against her throat as he spilled his seed inside her, continuing to thrust and ride out their orgasms.

A thin sheen of sweat covered the both of them when he finally stilled and rolled onto his back. He felt Sansa's hot breath against his chest and gently stroked her hair and her shoulder. Enjoying the feel of her skin beneath his fingers, Jaime brushed her hair to the side to continue his exploration. He looked down at her – watching his hand glide over her skin - and saw bruises marring the backs of her upper arms. _Fingermarks._ _Someone hurt her._

"Who did this to you?" he whispered, gently running his finger over the dark bruises. He turned his head and saw that they were on both of her arms, as if someone had grabbed her and held her down. He looked at her wrist and saw fainter bruising there. Sansa looked down – away from his eyes – resting her head on Jaime's chest. He could feel the tension radiating from her body. Jaime gently ran his fingers through her hair, trying to soothe her as a sinking feeling settled in his stomach. "Did Baelish do that to you?"

She nodded against his chest. "Yes."

"Did he…" Jaime couldn't bring himself to finish the question, remembering Littlefinger's visit to the dungeon and how he'd all but promised to go upstairs and rape Sansa. "What happened?" he asked gently.

Sansa trembled beneath his hand and was silent for a long time. Jaime held her, waiting for her to answer. "He…he said if I didn't…make him happy he would give Julianna away and let someone else raise her. He made me – He made me take off my gown." Jaime closed his eyes. He didn't want to hear anymore, but he knew he had to be strong for her, no matter how much it hurt him to listen.

"I didn't want to but he kept saying he wouldn't let me keep Julianna. And he said...I was married to a dead man. I thought that I could play along and…use the dagger Ser Addam gave me to protect myself. But then he…took off his clothes," she said, lowering her voice to a whisper, the disgust and humiliation apparent in her voice. "He started touching my breasts and…I slapped him and he said he would feed Julianna to the dragons if I ever did that again. Then he..." She turned her face against him and he felt the tears on his chest.

"It's all right, sweet girl. It's all right. You don't have to say anymore." He wrapped his arms around her and kissed the top of her head, murmuring softly as she nuzzled under his chin. Jaime almost wished they were still at the Rock, so he could kill Baelish for what he'd done to Sansa. He could almost feel his missing right hand clenching into a tight fist in his rage. _The bastard deserves to die. Anyone who would dare to harm her deserves a slow, painful death._

Sansa gripped his forearms and lowered her voice to a whisper. "My mother came in before…before he could…rape me." Jaime sighed in relief. He could see that Sansa was traumatized by what Baelish had done to her, and knew she would have been even more broken if he had actually violated her. "But I…I stabbed him in the neck with the dagger and…as he was bleeding all over the floor, mother pressed a pillow to his face until he died. We threw him out the window…into the sea."

Jaime was relieved that Baelish was dead, but he regretted that Sansa had to inflict such violence. A girl like Sansa should not know this brutality. She should not have to kill. _She's already known far too much evil during this war. _He hated the thought of Sansa being all alone and having to defend herself in such a manner. "Forgive me," he murmured against her hair. She looked up at him in question. "I should have been there to protect you."

"There's nothing to forgive. I know that you would have been with me if you had any choice. You've always protected me. I'm all right. Now that we're together," she finished with a whisper.

He kissed her temple. "You know…when I fell into that water…it was so cold I could scarce draw breath. And the shock of the temperature…I could hardly move at all. But I forced myself to swim. To fight. _For you_. Because I knew if I made it onto this ship, I would get the life I always wanted. _You_ are my reason for fighting." Sansa nodded against Jaime's chest and he tipped her chin up so he could see her eyes. "_You_ are my reason for living." He gently pressed his lips against hers. She nodded tearfully.

Jaime smiled as she reached for the furs, pulling them up to cover both of them and carefully tucking them around his body before settling back into his arms. Jaime wrapped his arms around her – holding her tightly – and gently stroked her hair until she fell asleep.

…

_First, thank you so much to Nyx Nuit for the new cover image. _

_I feel like a broken record, but I really do appreciate all of the reviews. The way that so many of you have embraced and enjoyed my story means a lot to me and I hope you will all continue __ There will be some time jumps from here on out (not major, just a few weeks here and there)._

_Next chapter: Jaime and Sansa continue their voyage; Tyrion returns to King's Landing with Dany (and we may check in with Catelyn & Arya…)_


	85. Chapter 85

_I apologize in advance for my terrible poetry when we get to the songs written about Jaime and Sansa…_

…

Chapter 85

Sansa leaned against the railing of the ship, enjoying the feel of the cool air against her face. The cold, refreshing crispness reminded her of the North. Of home. Now that they had traveled far enough South that it wasn't as unbearably freezing as it had been when they first left Casterly Rock, she enjoyed coming up onto the deck of the ship to get some air every afternoon. They had been sailing for nearly a moon's turn, and Sansa finally felt that they were safe from the new Queen and her dragons. Though she had never been on the water before, Sansa had come to feel safe on the Sunset Sea and this ship. It felt like home.

Sansa could tell that their ship was very fine, though she knew little about such things. The brass railings gleamed so brightly they appeared almost gold. The sails were Lannister crimson, but they did not bear the Lannister sigil, in the event they encountered enemies during their journey. The ship was as long as the throne room in King's Landing and it took nearly forty men to serve as its crew. The stateroom that Jaime and Sansa shared was elegantly appointed and many toys and books were on the ship for Tommen and Julianna. She appreciated that even as they were preparing to flee, Jaime had ensured that she and the children would be as comfortable as possible. _He says that I take care of him, but he takes good care of me as well._

Every morning, Jaime and Tommen would take out the large map the captain had given them, and use it to mark their progress from the day before, as they made their way South. The boy would listen intently as Jaime told him about the different places they passed. Sansa could see that Jaime was more relaxed now that they had left Westeros. He allowed himself to enjoy spending time with Tommen. He was not as uneasy around the little boy as he had been before. It made Sansa smile to watch Tommen trail along beside Jaime as he went about his day – like a little shadow following him everywhere. He never seemed to get tired of Jaime's company. _Tommen worships Jaime, now that he knows him well and feels safe with him. He's so happy when he's with his father. Not that he knows Jaime is his father._

Sansa spent most days in their stateroom, keeping the baby company and working on her needlepoint to pass the time. Julianna would play happily at her feet until Sansa got bored with her sewing and joined her. The both of them would sit on the rug in front of the fire playing and watching Tommen's kittens run about their rooms. Every day, Julianna was talking more and more. In addition to calling she and Jaime "mama" and "dada," she called Tommen, Pia, and all the kittens by name – Tommen had taught her - though she didn't quite pronounce them correctly. Every night, Jaime would try to teach her a new word, though the results were more amusing than educational.

Sansa glanced behind her and saw that Jaime was speaking to some of his men, as he did every day. He seemed to be in his element, commanding those who had accompanied them from the Rock. Every day, Jaime would walk through the different levels of the ship. It took him several hours to do so, because he made certain to speak to each of his men. No one was beneath his notice or unworthy of his attention. _That's why they are so loyal to him. He makes each of them feel that they are important._ As she watched him, Sansa came to realize why these men came with them – why they risked being put to death for treason in order to help them. They were more than House Lannister's soldiers. They were _Jaime's_ soldiers_._ These men admired Jaime in a way she had never before seen. She'd noticed it before when they traveled from King's Landing to the Rock. But their loyalty to him was even more striking to her as she considered that these were men who gave up everything – including their own lives back in Westeros – to save Jaime's life. And her own.

She turned back to the water, watching as they traveled further and further away from Westeros and the places Sansa had called home. The sea was still a dark, angry grey, even during the rare moments when the sun was in the sky. Sansa could hardly wait until they traveled farther South, where it would be warm and the sun would shine far more than it had for the past year of Winter. She longed to feel the sun on her face and see the crystal blue water of the Sunset Sea that Jaime had told her about. _I would love to watch the sunset with him from the back of our ship._ Though, the current weather made any such thing seem a foolish dream.

The air seemed to be growing warmer – and wetter - but the sky was turning darker by the moment. The ship lurched suddenly and Sansa felt strong arms grip her from behind before she could lose her footing. "Careful, my lady. I wouldn't want you to tumble overboard," Jaime murmured in her ear. "I'd be forced to dive in after you. Though I suppose it would make a rather daring rescue."

Sansa smiled and leaned back against Jaime, knowing she was safe. She could scarce believe that she was on this ship, traveling South with Jaime and their daughter. If someone had told the silly girl she was back in Winterfell that this would be her future, she'd have called them a fool. Now, she realized that she was the foolish one. She was far happier now than she could ever have been as Queen. Sansa gripped the rail as the ship was tossed violently again by the tall waves. It suddenly began to rain large, cold drops of water. _At least it's not cold enough for snow._ The wind picked up and the large vessel jerked to the side again, though Jaime had steady footing and his arm around her.

"Are we safe in this storm?" she asked.

"It's come up rather suddenly but, the Captain assures me we're far enough from the shore that there's little danger of crashing into the rocks. We'll get tossed around a bit and this rain will continue until the storm passes," he said, wrapping her up in his cloak as he spoke to her. "I want you and the children below deck. The waves could get high enough to wash a grown man overboard."

"Then you should come below deck, too."

Jaime softly rubbed his hand over her shoulder. "Once I have made certain that the men don't need help with the ship, I'll join you." Sansa heard a loud rumbling in the sky, as if the gods themselves were voicing their displeasure.

Tommen ran over to them, taking her hand. "What was that, Uncle?"

"It seems we're in for a bit of a thunderstorm." He smiled down at Tommen. "There's nothing to fear. Winter storms come up quickly at sea. I want both of you inside and out of the rain. Pia will fix you something warm to drink and you and Julianna can sit in front of the fire. I'll join you soon."

Sansa knew better than to believe that. Jaime would never sit inside their warm stateroom while his men fought the winds and rain to keep their ship on course. He must have sensed her skepticism, because he leaned down and kissed her before gently – but firmly – pushing her and Tommen in the direction of the stairs. "I promise."

…

Dragon banners decorated King's Landing and the Red Keep once again. Tyrion faintly remembered Aunt Genna bringing him to King's Landing once as a boy, when his father still served as Hand to Aerys Targaryen. Cersei had been living with their father in King's Landing, and Jaime served as squire to Lord Crakehall. Tyrion had been left behind at the Rock in the care of servants. Tyrion had been excited at the prospect of seeing the dragon heads that decorated the walls of the Throne Room. But Lord Tywin had been annoyed at his presence and ordered that he was not to leave the Tower of the Hand. Aunt Genna had told him that his father was very busy working, but Tyrion knew that his father was ashamed of him. _Well, father, now it is I who am Hand to a Targaryen ruler. _

Tyrion had managed to convince Daenerys that he should not remain behind at the Rock, as she had intended, but rather, that he should accompany her to King's Landing as an advisor, now that Littlefinger had fled. He had worried that she mistrusted him, after Jaime's escape, but she looked at him with gratitude when he offered to help her, and readily accepted. _She's just a girl still. Not much older than Sansa. And she has not had anyone to teach her to be a leader. _Over the course of their journey, Tyrion spent time with the young Queen – dining with her every night - and he had earned her trust and, he believed, her friendship.

Tyrion spoke to her of the different families of Westeros, and how he thought it best to win their loyalty. She had many questions about the Realm, and about how best to rule it's people. He had given his opinion, always ensuring that she did not feel he was telling her what to do. _She is proud. And a Queen. _Tyrion knew that she had to make her own decisions - she would not like to be told what to do. Though he had every intention of guiding her to the correct decision. The night before their arrival in King's Landing she had asked if he would consider serving as her Hand and he had quickly accepted.

The trip from Casterly Rock back to the Red Keep had taken some time. Though, that was by Tyrion's design. He had encouraged the Queen to stop at most every keep along the way so that her subjects could swear fealty, and it resulted in a rather long and meandering trip. Tyrion wanted Daenerys to meet the lesser lords and realize that she need not overthrow every noble house in order to sit on the Iron Throne. She had to learn that all of Westeros was not the enemy, even if they had been loyal to Robert Baratheon.

Ser Barristan and Jorah Mormont both seemed to approve of Tyrion's suggestion, and voiced their support to the Queen. The lords they visited all allowed them entrance, though they were wary. _They must know how she gained access to the Rock. They're right not to trust us. _Tyrion also knew that they would have heard what she'd done to "Tommen" and that she had put a price on Jaime and Littlefinger's heads. It made every man in the Realm wary of their new Queen. Her entourage of the Dragons and Unsullied did little to put their fears to rest. Everything about the royal party was designed to intimidate.

Jon Snow had departed ways with them rather quickly after their departure from Casterly Rock, as the Night's Watch did not need to travel any farther South, thanks to Jaime's efforts against the White Walkers. He told the Queen that he and his men were required back in the North, at the Wall. Tyrion almost wondered if Lady Stark and her daughter traveled with the Night's Watch – he had left so abruptly.

They had been traveling for little more than a month, but Ser Addam had wasted no time in dispatching every singer in the Westerlands throughout the Realm. Some of the songs written about Jaime and Sansa were horrid…but there were some gems, which began to catch on. Daenerys had not yet heard any of them, and Tyrion was beginning to wonder if his chosen course was the correct one. _She'll likely fly into a rage._

As he walked along beside the Queen, Tyrion saw that the little Baratheon girl was in the throne room, studying the dragon skulls intently, her sworn shield standing beside her. The Queen had spared the life of Ser Davos, only after he swore loyalty to her and to the child. Tyrion recalled how fiercely Ser Davos had spoken of his devotion to the girl, swearing that he would protect her with his life, now that Stannis Baratheon and his own son were dead. "_The girl is all I have," _he had said. Daenerys did not trust him completely – four Unsullied shadowed them at all times, lest he get the idea to flee with the girl – but the child's tears and pleas had touched her.

Lady Shireen turned suddenly at the sound of their footsteps, and fell into a deep curtsey. The Queen smiled with genuine affection, bidding the child to rise. "You've returned, your grace," she said happily, no doubt bored with only Varys, Ser Davos and the Unsullied for company. "Did Lady Sansa and Ser Jaime come to King's Landing with you?"

Tyrion looked at the girl sharply and he could see that Daenerys was puzzled by the girl's question. She looked at Ser Davos. "I thought the child was kept away from Court. How would she know the Kingslayer?"

"She's never met him, your grace," Ser Davos assured her, clearly concerned that the Queen was angry with the child. "She wanted to go to the market, and there were singers there…they sang a song about the Kingslayer and his lady wife that Lady Shireen enjoyed very much."

"I'm sorry, your grace. Please forgive me," the child said, her hand shaking in fear at Dany's expression.

The Queen knelt before the child and took her hand. "You have nothing to fear, Lady Shireen. I always feared my brother's temper. I don't want you to fear me." The girl smiled, nodding her head.

"Ser Davos, please escort Lady Shireen to her chamber. I have some business with my advisors and then we'll have supper." She smiled at the girl. "I want to hear all about what you done during the time that we were gone." Ser Davos bowed his head and escorted the child to her room. "Lord Tyrion, Lord Varys…please join me. I believe I'd like to visit the markets. And perhaps hear a song." _This may just cost me my head._

Tyrion exchanged a glance with Varys, who had greeted them when they arrived, though the both of them dutifully followed the Queen from the Throne Room. They walked several steps behind her, as she spoke to Ser Barristan, enabling them to speak privately.

"It seems Littlefinger did not fare well in his quest to take Ser Jaime's wife from him." Tyrion glanced over at the Master of Whispers, wondering how he could possibly know what went on at Casterly Rock. Lord Tywin always took great pains to ensure that his servants did not have loose lips. "Don't worry, I have no intention of damaging your relationship with the Queen. It is beneficial to us both that certain…bad influences have been removed."

The both of them joined the Queen in her litter and she immediately questioned Lord Varys about what news he had for her, since their last communication. Varys had been sending messages to her by raven and, when a matter was sensitive, by rider. Though she only shared some of the contents with Tyrion – he did not know the entirety of their communications.

"Your grace, I cannot find a trace of Littlefinger or the Kingslayer. It is as if they both vanished." Tyrion found it curious that Varys was unwilling to confirm Baelish's death. If he truly had spies at the Rock, he must know that Littlefinger did nothing to help Jaime and Sansa escape. He must know the man is dead – though perhaps not how he perished. _Perhaps he thinks it better that she believe Littlefinger is a traitor._ "Though, as of this morning, I may have some idea where Baelish has gone."

Tyrion looked at the man curiously. "Really? Where is that?"

"A siege has only just been mounted against the Twins. By Ser Brynden Tully and his nephew, Lord Edmure. My sources report that Lady Stark and her daughter are also present in the war camp. Not Lady Lannister. The younger daughter. I expect they found the Twins to be an easier target than Riverrun, which is protected by far more troops. And…there was also the lure of revenge. The attack on the Twins has been mounted from both North and South, with all northerners not sworn to House Bolton joining the effort. The Starks will be avenged and The Twins _will_ fall."

Tyrion was not terribly surprised. He had experienced for himself how protective Catelyn Stark was of her children. And how vengeful she could be toward someone she believed had hurt one of them. The brutal way Walder Frey had murdered Robb Stark – in violation of the sacred guest right – had certainly earned him a place in hell_. Perhaps House Stark is not nearing extinction as Lord Tywin had thought._ His father had meant to crush House Stark, as he had crushed House Reyne. But the Starks were not a minor house, as the Reynes were. The North would band together and unite behind the remaining Starks. Tyrion almost pitied Roose Bolton.

The Queen cleared her throat. "I suppose there is no need to send men after Lady Stark and her brother. I had never intended for them to be prisoners of the crown. Though if they helped the Kingslayer to escape…they are traitors."

Varys responded before Tyrion could. "Your grace, it may be best to allow the Northerners to fight amongst themselves, and then deal with whomever wins the North. Lady Stark will not stop at the Twins. I expect she will want to reclaim Winterfell. Though, the Tullys may decide to take Riverrun back from the Lannisters. Either option will save the crown a great deal of effort."

The Queen nodded. "But make no mistake - the North is part of the Seven Kingdoms, and it will remain so. I'll not allow the Starks or anyone else to call themselves King. If they were to take the Twins, Riverrun and Winterfell…I could not allow that. They would have far too much of the Realm under their control." Tyrion thought it ridiculous that she worried Lady Stark would try to take thethrone, but he kept his thoughts to himself. "Lord Varys, I trust you will ensure that all of the Realm knows that Lord Tyrion has been granted a full pardon for any part he may have played in the death of the Usurper, Joffrey Baratheon. Once they hear that, they will forget how your family maligned you and accept you as Hand of the Queen."

"I expect you are correct, your grace," Lord Varys said, pleased that he was once again part of the Queen's inner-circle, with Baelish gone. "There are none who mourn King Joffrey. Though, King Tommen did not inspire the…hatred and fear that his brother did. He was but a child."

The Queen's eyes darkened, but there was no other indication that she regretted her actions toward the boy presented to her as Tommen Baratheon. "I will not apologize for doing what is necessary to take my throne," she said stubbornly.

As they continued through the market, a singer's voice began to filter into the litter, though as they progressed through the market, Tyrion discerned that there were several songs about Jaime and Sansa being performed throughout the marketplace. Tyrion was impressed that the minstrels had traveled from the Westerlands so quickly.

_The Kingslayer was captured, though bravely did he fight  
Into a cell, the young Wolf said, and forward did he march  
In darkness did the Lion Knight lay, his mind did drift away  
To a fair Wolf maiden – with hair of red and eyes of green  
Enemies they may be – her house and his at war  
But love began to grow_

Tyrion chanced a look at the Queen, who was listening intently to the words being sung. She quietly ordered the men carrying them to wait.

_Joffrey the Wicked did spurn her and Ser Jaime took a chance  
The gods themselves knew of his love, and freed him of his vows  
When the shy Lady Sansa met his eyes, true love did she see  
__His cloak of crimson did protect her from the claws of his pride  
__The wolf and the lion found true love  
And Casterly Rock did shine like the gold beneath_

When the singer began to tell of the Dragon Queen condemning Jaime to death, and ripping Sansa from his arms, Tyrion dared not look at her. _Perhaps she'll throw me to the crowd and allow them to tear me to pieces._ He had not expected the songs to be so merciless about the Queen's treatment of Jaime and Sansa.

He carefully glanced her way and saw that Daenerys was visibly displeased by what she heard. Tyrion prepared himself for the Queen to have the singer's tongue removed, or something equally grotesque. "I suppose I understand why Shireen wished to meet the Kingslayer and Lady Sansa," she said tightly.

"We can have them stop singing –"

"No. I'm not afraid of words. I know that…my father had men's tongues ripped out for saying words he did not like. As did Joffrey the Usurper. The smallfolk will see that I am their Queen, and that the Kingslayer - an oathbreaker with no honor - is not a hero." She suddenly focused on Tyrion. "Lord Tyrion, if you are to be my Hand, you must marry. I want stability throughout the Realm and my small council. And there are many Houses in the Realm that must be brought to heel."

He nodded with resignation. "I shall…begin searching for a bride with all haste that my office allows."

Lord Varys smiled in a way that Tyrion did not like. "I already have a lady in mind, and I believe the Queen and I are in agreement that the young lady will make an ideal lady wife for you."

_Seven hells…_

…

Sansa sat on the edge of Tommen's little bed, holding Julianna on her lap. It had been pouring rain for hours and the thunder had not let up. Julianna was whining fearfully as she covered her ears and huddled against Sansa.

"It's all right, sweetling," Sansa cooed, rubbing her back in comfort. She had made Tommen put the kittens in their cage, because the boat was being tossed around so much and she worried they would get hurt. She'd also put away everything that was not secured. Luckily the beds, chairs and tables were bolted to the floor.

"The boat won't sink, will it?" Tommen asked, looking up at her with wide green eyes.

"Of course not, Tommen. All of Jaime's men are sailing the ship. They won't allow that to happen. The captain said that we're safe. I know it's scary," Sansa said soothingly, even as she had to grip the bed as a particularly violent wave hit the ship, shaking the room.

"Where's Uncle Jaime?" _Good question_, she thought, wishing that Jaime were with them. _He said he would join us, but it's been hours._

"He's helping all of his men. Lie back and try to close your eyes and when you wake up, the storm will have passed." They both looked scared, and Sansa wanted them to feel safe. "Would you like Julianna to sleep with you tonight? So she doesn't get scared?"

He nodded, though she knew it would also comfort Tommen to have the babe next to him. Sansa looked at Julianna. "Do you want to sleep here with Tommen?" Sansa patted the bed beside him, hoping Julianna understood, and she crawled onto the bed beside him, curling up next to him in a little ball. He put his arm protectively over the baby, holding her close to his chest. Sansa kissed both of them on the cheek, and smoothed her hands over their hair, softly humming a song until they both closed their eyes. _I hope they stay asleep._

She pulled the blanket up over them, smiling at the sight of Tommen and Julianna asleep in each other's arms. The room was dark, since she was afraid to leave a candle unattended in such conditions, but there was a soft glow from the wood burning stove in the room. She carefully closed the door and wrapped her cape around her shoulders, carefully making her way up to the deck of the ship.

Sansa grimaced and raised her hood to keep some of the rain off of her head, though the storm was fierce and rain was falling in sheets. She could barely see, the rain was so heavy, and she held onto the railing as she tried to spot Jaime. It appeared that most of the men were up on the deck, trying to maintain control of the ship as the wind howled and rain battered the vessel.

Sansa finally spotted Jaime, working with Gendry to tie down one of the larger sails. They both appeared to be soaked to the bone – as was every other man on board. _He always has to serve alongside his men. _

She turned her head as she felt Pia lay a hand on her back. "Lord Lannister would not want you up here, m'lady. It's most dangerous ."

"It's dangerous for him as well," she said defiantly, having no intention of sitting alone below while Jaime was struggling so. "I'm out of the way here. I just want to watch him…make certain he's safe." As much as she feared for him, it still made her proud to see Jaime working alongside his men. _He doesn't allow the loss of a hand to slow him down. Nor does he act as an imperious lord, who is above serving with his men._

The sky rumbled again with thunder and she saw lightning streak across the sky, far in the distance. Sansa's eyes widened in horror and she gripped the railing tightly as a huge wave began to rise above the ship and crash down onto the deck. The wave threw several men against the rails and snapped one of the huge wooden masts and sending it plummeting towards Jaime and Gendry.

"Jaime!"

…

_I know, another cliffhanger. But it keeps all of you interested :)_

_Almost 1300 reviews! Thank you all so much for reading, reviewing and encouraging me to continue this story. There have been a few questions about my thoughts on Dany & if she is OOC. I think that book/show Dany has a sense of entitlement that she needs to get over. There are times I like the character, then she'll show up in some random city and expect everyone to treat her as queen & give her anything she wants just because she has dragons. She needs to learn some diplomacy, instead of relying on brute force if she actually wants to rule, rather than conquer. (Even if her house words are fire & blood.) Just my thoughts_

_We just had a hint of what Catelyn and Arya are up to, but this chapter would have been massive if they were in it, so I had to move them to the next one. And…Tyrion's bride will be revealed._


	86. Chapter 86

Chapter 86

"Jaime!"

He heard Sansa scream his name. As Jaime turned to her, he heard a loud noise above him and tilted his head up. He saw the wave, higher than any he had ever seen, cresting over the ship. It crashed into the sails, flooding the deck of the ship and sending one of the huge wooden masts plummeting downward towards he and Gendry. The young blacksmith shoved him out of the way of the falling post and Jaime slipped on the flooded deck of the ship, as the mast crashed down, hitting him hard on the leg. The sail cascaded down covering much of the deck of the ship, shrouding them in Lannister crimson.

Jaime felt disoriented as all he could see was the crimson red of the sail. His leg throbbed from the blow of the mast and the fall had knocked the wind out of him. The ship continued to violently rock back and forth, cresting over massive waves as the wind howled. He heard his soldiers calling his name, and he thought he heard Sansa. _She should not be out here. It's far too dangerous._ As he attempted to drag himself out from under the sail, the wet crimson cloth was lifted from his head and rain began pelting his face once again.

Almost immediately, Sansa was kneeling beside him, hugging him tightly. He allowed himself a moment to indulge in the pleasure of letting her hold him. He was soaked through to the skin and she felt warm and comforting. He closed his eyes while she stroked his wet hair and clutched him against her, though he could feel that she was beginning to get soaked with rain. Her hands moved over his body, as if she were searching him for injuries. "I told you to stay below deck," he scolded quietly.

Sansa ignored his displeasure, scowling in annoyance as she continued to look him over. "Are you hurt?"

"I'll be fine, sweet girl. Just a few bruises," he said, turning his head. "Where's Gendry? The boy was right next to me." Two of Jaime's soldiers were helping Gendry sit up. He was conscious, but bleeding from his head. "Get him below deck, into one of the staterooms." Jaime saw that Pia was beside Sansa, loyally protecting her lady by draping a dry cloak over her shoulders. "Pia, you'll tend to Gendry's injuries."

She nodded. "Of course, m'lord."

"I'm all right," Gendry protested weakly, but Jaime wouldn't hear it.

"You're going down below and you'll allow her to tend to that cut on the head. That's an order." _The boy has saved my life more than once – now and when we fought the White Walkers. And he's protected Arya, Sansa, Tommen and Julianna as if they were his own family. _Tommen had grown very close to the young blacksmith while he helped to hide him from the Targaryen girl. And he already knew that the boy meant the world to Arya. Even little Julianna would happily smile and wave when she saw him. _Somehow Robert Baratheon's bastard has managed to become a part of our family. Father and Cersei must be rolling over in their graves._

"Go below, lad. You took a nasty blow to the head. We'll fix the mast in the morning, when the storm passes. I expect this is the worst of it," the crusty old captain said, helping Gendry to his feet. "You as well, Ser Jaime." He looked at Sansa beside him. "It seems your lady wife wants you in her bunk tonight."

Sansa blushed, though she didn't release Jaime's arm, which she was holding firmly, as if she expected him to run away from her and resume helping with the ship. Despite the rain soaking them both, she had not budged from his side. The captain was an old smuggler who had helped the Blackfish reach Casterly Rock from Riverrun. Now he was working for Lannister gold.

Jaime looked at Sansa again, and could see that she was silently imploring him to let the captain and the red cloaks sail the ship while he went below deck with her. Jaime was hesitant to leave his men to deal with the storm. He felt whole and capable as he worked alongside his men. Not like a cripple and an invalid. He'd always served with his men, never leaving them to do the dirty work while he sat in comfort. _Though, I never had a wife and children beside me before._ He looked at Sansa.

"Please, Jaime," Sansa whispered quietly. _She needs me with her more than my men. _He looked her over and saw that she had become soaking wet from the rain – so much so that the hood of her cloak was plastered to her head. He nodded, giving his thanks to the captain, and followed Pia and the two soldiers helping Gendry down below deck. "Will he be all right?" Sansa asked, looking at Gendry with concern, once they were out of the rain and she could lower her hood. "Tommen and Arya are both so fond of him. And he's helped us so much."

"Don't worry, I'll look after him, m'lady," Pia said. "He'll be all right."

After Pia's reassurances, Jaime allowed Sansa to lead him back to their room. It was dark, except for the faint glow of the fire. She started to cross to the bed, but Jaime wrapped his arm around Sansa's waist, pulling her against him. "I told you to stay down here with the children, naughty girl," he said, smiling against her neck.

She turned in his arms, looking at him defiantly. "And you said you would come down here and join us."

He kissed her, wiping her lips with his thumb. He noticed she was shivering. "Are you cold?" She nodded. "We best get you out of these wet clothes," he said mischievously. "Me as well."

He pulled at the tie on her cloak, and pushed it from her shoulders. The wind howled and pitched the boat forward, sending Sansa into his arms. She helped him remove his tunic and they moved in front of the fire to warm up. Jaime turned her away from him, and unlaced her gown, which she pushed to the ground. He began kissing her shoulders and neck, after he snaked his arms around her waist. "I'm sorry I worried you," he whispered.

Sansa turned to face him, wrapping her arms around his neck. "You should have known I'd come find you," she said, brushing his wet hair back from his forehead.

"I'd expect that of Arya. You always seemed better behaved than her," he whispered against her neck, as they continued peeling away their soaking wet clothes. He saw that she was still shivering, despite being in front of the fire, and reached for a wool blanket from their bed and wrapped it around her, using the blanket to pull her into his arms. She held him tightly and Jaime stroked her hair.

Jaime settled onto a fur before the fire, with Sansa in his arms and blankets wrapped around them both. Sansa cuddled against him, her grip tightening at the sound of the wind howling the thunder roaring. "Are you scared?" he asked, smiling. Jaime pulled the blanket tighter around her shoulders to keep her warm, though he tipped her chin up and kissed her. "No one can hurt you, as long as you're in my arms."

She smiled, resting her head on his chest. "When there were thunderstorms…when I was growing up…Robb, Jon, Arya and Bran and I would pile furs on the floor in front of the fireplace in the Great Hall and sleep there together. It was in the center of the keep so, the thunder didn't seem as loud and…I always felt so safe when we were all together."

"You miss home, don't you?"

"Sometimes," she whispered against his neck. "I feel badly that I didn't appreciate what I had. I didn't realize how lucky I was to have the family I did. A family that really loves one another." She looked up at him, gently running her fingers over his beard. "Not everyone has that." He knew she was thinking about his own family and how the Lannisters were perpetually at each other's throats.

"No, they don't," he said quietly. "Though, I do now. Because of you." He vowed that Julianna would only know a loving and supportive family. Jaime leaned over and found her mouth, kissing her slowly. He felt one of her hands at the nape of his neck as she turned in his arms, reaching for his shoulder with the other. As she moved into his lap, the blanket slipped from her shoulders and Jaime felt her breasts against his bare chest.

"Uncle Jaime?"

Sansa quickly grabbed the blanket, wrapping it around her shoulders, and smiled apologetically at Jaime. He turned to look at Tommen, who was carrying Julianna. The wind howled again. Both children looked terrified, and Julianna began squirming and reaching for Jaime.

"Julianna's scared of the storm."

"She is, is she?" Jaime asked, taking the babe from Tommen's arms. She eagerly reached for him, gripping his arms tightly. He put her on his lap and looked down at her. "What's the matter? You're safe, Julianna."

She gazed up at him with her bright green eyes and slowly smiled. "Love you," she said quietly before hugging him tightly around his neck. She rested her head on his shoulder and Jaime felt such love for his baby daughter. The thought that she had nearly been taken away from him – that moments like this had nearly been taken from him forever – terrified and angered him.

"We love you, baby girl," Sansa whispered, kissing the baby's cheek, though she continued to cling to her father.

"Love you…mama."

"Tommen come sit with me," Sansa said, wrapping her blanket tighter around her body, and making room for him between she and Jaime. He watched Sansa wrap her arm around Tommen and kiss the top of his head. _Tommen and I are fortunate that Sansa is so loving and accepting of him._

"I don't like the storm, either," Tommen said quietly, leaning against her as the boat pitched to the side again. "I was holding her, like you said, but we were both scared."

"That's all right," Sansa said. "We don't mind if you stay here with us tonight. The captain said the storm should pass soon. Then it won't be so scary."

"Tommen, when Sansa was a little girl, she and her brothers and sisters would all sleep together during a storm, in front of the fire in the Great Hall at Winterfell." He looked around the room. "We could all sleep here in front of the fire." He saw Sansa smile, appreciating that he wasn't making her forget her life with her family in Winterfell.

"Can my kittens sleep with us?"

"You can bring their cage in here," Sansa said. "Be careful walking. The boat's moving around a bit." Tommen jumped up and walked into his room to get his kittens.

Sansa reached for one of Jaime's tunics, quickly pulling it over her head. "So much for my plans for passing the time tonight," he said with a smile, as she covered her nakedness. She shook her head at his wantonness and gave him some loose linen pants to sleep in. She walked over to the bed and grabbed the pillows and furs, tossing them onto the floor beside Jaime. Julianna wouldn't release her grip on him, but he helped Sansa begin to make a bed for them as best he could.

"Thank you, Jaime," she said. "For…letting me keep some part of my childhood."

He gestured to the babe in his arms. "She's your daughter, too. She deserves to know what bizarre things you Northerners do." Sansa threw a pillow at him, hitting him in the face.

"We'll have to punish your mother for that," he told Julianna, grabbing Sansa with his free arm and tickling her. Julianna began to shriek in excitement as Sansa struggled to get away. He stopped tickling her and pulled her against him. "I love you."

Sansa kissed him. "I love you, too." Her eyes shifted behind him. "Tommen, let me help you." She walked to the doorway and took the kittens from him. He trailed along beside her with his pillow and blanket. Sansa smacked Jaime's shoulder as she passed. _She must have noticed me admiring her legs. She does look fetching in my tunic and nothing else._

She and Tommen piled up furs and pillows, making a tempting looking nest for the four of them to sleep in. He murmured quietly to Julianna, who was nuzzling against him, settling in for the night now that she was safely in her father's arms, surrounded by her family. Once they were all comfortable, a loud rumble of thunder echoed through the room and Tommen moved closer to Sansa. He looked at Jaime fearfully.

"It's all right. I know it feels as if the boat will be swept away in the storm, but we're safe. It's just the motion of the water."

"Why did we have to leave Casterly Rock?" Tommen asked suddenly. "I liked it there."

Sansa looked at Jaime uncertainly. "The lady with the dragons – the new Queen – she didn't like me. Because…I killed her father."

"The Mad King?"

"Yes."

"If she's Queen now…does that mean I'm not King anymore?"

Jaime didn't know what to say, but Sansa spoke before he could. "Did you like being King, Tommen?"

He shook his head. "I liked stamping the papers Lord Tyrell put in front of me to sign."

Jaime and Sansa both tried not to laugh at the only pleasure Tommen took in being King. "Anything else?"

"No. The crown was heavy and too big for me and...I didn't get to play with a sword or learn to joust because I was King and couldn't get hurt. And I didn't get to live with you and Julianna and Uncle Jaime."

Hearing Tommen express his happiness at living with he and Sansa gave Jaime the confidence to answer his question. "Well, you're not King anymore. That's why we're leaving for the Free Cities. The lady with the dragons wants to be Queen and…she thinks she has to hurt all of us to get the Iron Throne."

"But you won't let her hurt us, will you, Uncle?"

"No, Tommen. I won't let anyone hurt you. I'll protect all of us." The boy nodded and rested his head on the pillow beside Sansa. She reached over him to take Jaime's hand, linking her fingers through his. He closed his eyes and rested his head atop Julianna's, listening to the sounds of the storm as they all drifted off to sleep.

…

Catelyn Stark stood in the Great Hall at the Twins, rooted to the spot where Robb was murdered. For hours, she could do nothing more than stand there. Edmure had tried to get her to leave - to wait with Roslin in her tent, or at least in some other part of the keep - but she couldn't seem to move. She felt a tension in her body – as if she were preparing for the Freys to attack once again, as they had at the Red Wedding.

The North had taken the Twins – and Walder Frey's head. The banners of Houses Stark and Tully flew above the Twins. Robb was avenged. The North was avenged. And all who had participated in his murder – and that of his men – were dead. But it wasn't enough. It wouldn't bring back Robb. Her firstborn. It wouldn't make her forget the sight of them taking his head and replacing it with Grey Wind's. _The blood._ She'd never forget all the blood. Or the screams. Her own most of all.

_Why didn't I follow my instincts? I knew something was wrong. I knew it._ By the time she realized the entire wedding was a trap – a way to kill Robb and steal Riverrun – it had been too late. Robb had been shot with arrows and weakened, his men slaughtered. While two of Walder Frey's sons restrained her, Roose Bolton drove his sword through Robb's chest. In that moment, she wished they would kill her, too.

As her son lay dying, all she could hear was the triumphant laughter of Walder Frey. He was joyous that he had killed the grandson of Hoster Tully and would now imprison his son and daughter. He thought he had won – that Lannister gold would protect him.

_He was not so triumphant on the chopping block_. As Lord of Riverrun, his head was for Edmure to take, but he had deferred to the Blackfish. Despite the atrocities he had orchestrated, Walder Frey was still Roslin's father and out of respect for her, Edmure had handed over his sword. Roslin remained far away from the Twins, with her babe, knowing that her father and brothers had this coming, but having no desire to see it.

Arya had volunteered to behead Lord Walder herself – rather excitedly. Catelyn worried that she'd become far too bloodthirsty. _She's seen things no child should see. And done things, as well_. Sansa had told her about Arya killing Ser Ilyn Payne, though she had sworn her to secrecy, insisting that Jaime had spoken to Arya about it. Catelyn had been reluctant to trust that Jaime Lannister had counseled her daughter appropriately, but Sansa had been unrelenting in her assurances that he cared for Arya and would speak to her as her father would have. It had taken every ounce of Catelyn's strength not to lash out at Sansa for comparing Jaime to Ned. But she had eventually realized that Sansa was right. Jaime had as much experience as Ned with such matters. _He certainly knows better than I how it feels to kill._

_There's been so much blood and death…_

Catelyn knelt on the floor beside the spot where Robb had died. Where he'd fallen after Roose Bolton stabbed him. Where the Frey boys had sawed through his neck. "I'm sorry, Robb. I'm sorry they killed you and not me." It had been more than a year and still she woke most nights, her heart racing and tears streaming down her face. "I wish I could remember you as you were…not as the Freys left you…bloody and mutilated on the floor."

"Mother?" Arya said uncertainly behind her. "Are you all right?" she asked, joining her on the floor.

_Am I all right? My husband is dead. All of my boys are dead. _She held her daughter close, grateful that she still had Arya and Sansa. Even if she never saw Sansa again, she knew she was alive and happy. She knew she was safe with her own child in her arms. Catelyn might despise Jaime Lannister for what he did to Bran, but she knew he would protect her daughter.

Arya stared down at the floor. "Is this where…they killed Robb?" she finished in a whisper. Catelyn nodded, blinking back tears. "I was trying to get to you when...Gendry saw them lighting Robb's banners on fire. I'm sorry I wasn't here. I could have protected him."

Catelyn smiled. "I know you would have tried. Robb would not have wanted you to be harmed." _Nor would he have wanted you to see what they did to all of us. _"He would be glad that your friend prevented you from coming in here." She looked her daughter over, not having seen her in the hours since they took the Twins. "Where have you been, Arya?"

"Uncle Blackfish and I were walking through the towers – to make certain all the Freys are dead." Catelyn sighed. _Trust Brynden to take her with him on such a grim task. He's worse than the Kingslayer, the way he indulges her unladylike ways._ "Are we going to stay here for very long?" she asked, helping her mother rise to her feet.

Catelyn shook her head. _We can't leave here soon enough, as far as I'm concerned._ "The soldiers need to rest for a few days, after their battle."

After helping them all to escape Casterly Rock, Brynden Tully had promised to restore Winterfell to she and Arya. As they traveled North, toward the Twins, it was decided that they would all remain in Winterfell until the Spring, gathering their forces before marching South to reclaim Riverrun for Edmure and House Tully. Roose Bolton ruled the North now, Winterfell being his reward from Lord Tywin. _But the great lion is dead. _

Nearly every house in the North had been waiting, it seemed, for Catelyn Stark and whichever of her children – whichever of Ned Stark's children - remained to return and mount an attack on the Lord of the Dreadfort. A few scouts had been sent North by Ser Brynden, to test the loyalties of the Northerners. They had returned with thousands of men, who were only too happy to help mount an attack on the Twins. She remembered what Ned had always told her. _The North Remembers. Walder Frey would have done best to remember that. And Roose Bolton will soon learn it._

"Arya, once the soldiers are rested and we've gathered enough supplies from the Frey's stores, we'll travel North. We're going home."

…

Tyrion sat in the temporary quarters Daenerys had designated for his use until the Tower of the Hand was rebuilt. _I knew Cersei was crazy, but to burn the tower to the ground with wildfire…what was she thinking? I suppose she was overcome with grief for our lord father._ He sipped his hot spiced wine and waited for Pod to escort his betrothed to join him. She'd arrived in King's Landing today, but Tyrion couldn't bring himself to meet her carriage. _Why couldn't Varys have suggested a sweet, innocent girl like Sansa?_ Though, Tyrion supposed, taking another swallow of wine, such a girl would recoil in horror at the sight of him. _This one may as well. At least she deserves the unhappiness and humiliation of being wedded and bedded by the Imp._

He heard Pod's tentative knock on the door and bid him to enter. Margaery Tyrell was on his arm and entered his solar. "My lady," Tyrion said, barely acknowledging her. "You may leave us Pod. Thank you."

She adjusted her skirts and sat in the chair opposite him, close to the fire, and taking off the heavy green velvet that shrouded her. It rather amused him that despite the cold weather, she still bared quite a bit of skin beneath her traveling cloak. _Cersei would have some choice words for her attire._

"Would you care for some spiced wine, my lady? It will keep away the chill."

"Thank you, my lord," she said quietly, as she assessed the situation. He could see that she was uncomfortable, though doing her best to hide her true feelings. A serving girl handed her a cup and stoked the fire before leaving them alone. "I was surprised that you weren't outside to greet my carriage, my lord Hand."

"I'm Hand of the Queen and…there is much to do as part of her new reign. Besides, we'll have the rest of our lives together." _Hopefully it will be longer than the lifetime you spent with Joffrey._

Margaery nodded, putting down her cup. "You don't like me."

"I don't know you. Strike that. I don't know you, except that you've married three kings in your family's desperation to make you Queen. And yet still purport to be a maiden. I also know that you left me to take the blame for the murder of your second husband, when you and your family killed him yourself. I know that I would have been executed for your crimes if…fate had not intervened." _Though by fate, I mean, Jaime._

She looked at him in surprise. "You think I had something to do with what happened to my dear Joffrey?" _She is rather good actress. I'll have to keep that in mind, if I'm ever inclined to believe her to be sincere._ "I have always believed that he choked on the pie and…what happened to you was a great tragedy. I did hope that your sister would see beyond her grief and realize that it was the gods that killed her son. But she was determined to accuse you. I prayed many times that justice would be served, and so it has."

"Listen to me, my lady, and listen carefully. Queen Daenerys knows my suspicions about your involvement in Joffrey's death. If something were to happen to me – were to I to choke on my supper – you would not like the fate that would await you."

"Why would you suspect me?"

"Did you think Sansa would not tell Jaime that you warned her to stay close to him at all times during your wedding? And that he would not tell me once I was accused? Sansa was determined to testify for me at my trial, but neither Jaime nor I would allow her to incur the wrath of your family. The girl's been through enough." She seemed genuinely surprised at that revelation. "Varys vouched for you to Daenerys. She is satisfied – for now."

"But you're not satisfied?"

"No." _I'm not going to play her little games. I will not act as if I am honored and grateful for a beautiful highborn girl to marry, when I know the avarice and ambition that lies behind those big brown eyes._

She looked down at her hands for a long time before breaking the deafening silence in the solar. "I know not what Lord Varys said to the Queen on behalf of myself and my family. I do know that the Queen had little choice but to pardon me and my family," she began quietly. "There will likely be a long Winter ahead still…but it is not so barren in Highgarden and…the smallfolk require the generosity of House Tyrell. For food and grain."

"So that's your bargain with Varys."

"I've traveled here alone. Without even my brother, Loras, for protection. The Queen sent…those soldiers to escort me here. I'm told is important to her that her Hand be respectable and…marry someone worthy of the title. That it will please her subjects and…add legitimacy to her reign and her small counsel. In return, my father will remain Warden of the South and…"

"And not lose his head, as he rightly should, for acting as ruler under the authority of a boy king? A boy he then threw to the dragons?" Tyrion almost felt bad for her. She was being offered up – her maidenhead given to him – to secure her father's lands and titles. He was giving her to a man she no doubt believed to be far beneath her. _I suppose I am far beneath her worth in beauty. _But any sympathy he might have felt for the girl vanished when he recalled how he'd nearly died because of her treachery. When he recalled the humiliation of his trial. The final proof that his father hated him. "Don't think you'll leave a fourth marriage as a maiden."

"I did not expect to. Your reputation is well-known, even in Highgarden." _It seems this rose does have a few thorns. If she really wants to learn all of my appetites, I'll oblige the little rose._ He looked at her again as she spoke to him in a low voice. "Though, you forget that I am still married. Even if my little lord husband has fled with his father and Sansa to the Free Cities."

"Say that to the Queen and she may withdraw her generosity. Don't worry, my lady, the Septon will set aside all of your marriages…to all three usurpers. Though they are _dead_, the Queen is taking no chances that anyone would see you as a former queen. It will be as if your marriages to Renly, Joffrey and Tommen never happened. So, even if you believe the silly rumors about Tommen being alive…fear not. You and I will be bound together for all eternity."

_I best employ a food taster, if I have any hope of making it through this marriage alive._

…

_Thanks for reading and reviewing. Jaime and Sansa will have more to do in the next chapter, rather than just sitting on their ship. I had originally planned a large time jump after their escape from Casterly Rock (skipping over years) but because there was such enthusiasm from so many of you, I decided to have the story cover this time period._

_I don't think Margaery is that shocking of a choice as Tyrion's bride. And if he can ever trust her (though he probably should not) they would be a good team, even if he can't make her Queen. They are both good at the game. I think even Tywin would approve _

_Next chapter: Jaime and Sansa encounter the Dornish at sea_


	87. Chapter 87

Chapter 87

Jaime leaned against the railing of the ship, watching the wind softly blow Sansa's hair back behind her shoulders. In that light, her hair looked nearly the same color as the rising sun. It reminded him of the Rock, when the morning sun hit it on an early summer morning. Jaime closed his eyes in pleasure at the feel of the warm sun on his face and breathed in the clean salt air. They no longer needed to wear their heavy cloaks or woolen socks. As soon as they neared Dorne, the sun shone for longer and longer every day and the temperature began to steadily rise. Jaime had finally begun to feel warm for the first time in months.

It had been nearly two weeks since they had weathered the great storm. Gendry had recovered well and Jaime had promised him a permanent place in his household. The ship had survived the storm as well, though not without a few scratches. The mast that had fallen was in desperate need of repair. Their Captain was used to repairing ships while on the high seas, without stopping for supplies, so they continued on their journey, with only some patch work done. The mast that had fallen was in great need of repair, and as a result, they were traveling at a slower pace. Both Jaime and the Captain were more concerned about reaching the Free Cities than repairing the mast. So they had continued on and their perseverance was being rewarded now that they had escaped Winter.

"It's so beautiful," Sansa breathed, looking across the water at the sunrise. Jaime knew she'd never before seen the sun rise over the clear blue ocean as she did now. He watched her, feeling content. The light of the sun made her skin look just as golden as his own.

"_You_ are so beautiful," he whispered, wrapping his arm around her and kissing her cheek.

"How much longer until we reach the Free Cities?"

"Tommen and I marked the map this morning," he reminded her. "We should finish our travel around Dorne tomorrow and then reach Lys a few days later." Sansa nodded absently, biting her lip and looking out at the sunset once again.

Sansa pointed towards the land, so far in the distance it could barely be seen. "Is that Starfall there?"

"We passed Starfall yesterday. The home of Ser Arthur Dayne. The Knight of the Morning." _He was a true knight. Sansa would have admired him greatly._ "We should pass Sunspear tomorrow."

"Have you ever been there? To Dorne?"

"No. Though, if my mother had her way, I would have. If she had her way, if she had lived…I expect Princess Elia would have been my lady wife." Sansa looked at him in surprise. "Her mother and mine were childhood friends. They wished for their children to marry. Unfortunately, Elia and Prince Oberyn were sent to visit – sent to Casterly Rock – very soon after her death. My father was still mourning her and…he rejected the betrothals rather insultingly." Jaime rested his hand on the small of Sansa's back, distracted by his thoughts of the past.

"What was she like? The princess? Father and Mother would never speak of the Rebellion or Prince Rhaeger and…Aunt Lyanna. I always wanted to hear father's stories about them and the Great Tourney at Harrenhal. He changed the subject whenever I asked him. But you can tell me about it, Jaime."

He smiled to himself. There was hesitation in her voice, though it seemed her curiosity had got the better of her. She knew that Jaime did not relish speaking of that time. She knew he blamed himself for the death of the Princess. But, he supposed, the memories weren't entirely unpleasant. They were part of who he was.

"Princess Elia was very beautiful. Childbirth made her frail but…it did not change her beauty. She was very kind. Very ladylike. Very gentle. Princess Elia would have made a magnificent Queen." He looked down at Sansa. "She was not unlike you, in her temperament." _Though they may have been opposite in their looks, Elia and Sansa were both far too good and innocent for the game of thrones._ "I should have protected her. If not to fulfill my oath as a member of the Kingsguard…then out of respect for my mother."

Jaime had been there when the Princess learned that her husband had run away with Lyanna Stark. Prince Aegon had still been a babe in arms. She had schooled herself not to show her pain, but her eyes gave her away. Jaime had not known what to say to her. _Rhaeger was such a fool. To throw his lady wife away for the Stark girl._ He had seemed to love his wife. _Though, apparently he had not. _Jaime knew that nothing would make him forsake Sansa. He would never insult her as Rhaeger had insulted Elia.

Being so close to the Tower of Joy made Jaime wonder what had happened there. Only Ned Stark knew for certain, and he had never spoken of it. Not even to Robert. He'd simply announced that Lyanna was dead by the time he cut through Ser Arthur Dayne to get to her, and fled to the North with his bastard as if he were in exile. Jaime had always wondered what Ned Stark was hiding from. The Starks had never been so reclusive until after the Rebellion. It was shocking to Jaime that Sansa had never left Winterfell until she came to King's Landing. _Perhaps Ned feared someone running off with his own daughter. Sansa is certainly worth starting a war over._

Jaime was distracted from his thoughts when Sansa pulled away from him abruptly and leaned over the railing. She was emptying her stomach over the side of the ship. _Perhaps she was better off below deck. Staring at the water can make a person sick. _Jaime wrapped her hair around his hand, pulling it back from her face. He handed her a handkerchief and rubbed her back when she stood upright again. She had seemed fine – radiant even – moments before but now he saw sweat on her brow and she appeared pale. She reached into her pocket for a mint leaf, and chewed on it, closing her eyes and breathing deeply.

"Perhaps you should go below deck. It seems being on the water doesn't agree with you."

"I'm not seasick," she said quietly, wiping her mouth and grimacing. "I'm…with child. We're going to have another baby."

He should have known. As often as they made love, it was no surprise that Sansa would conceive again. She had probably been with child before they left the Rock. He wasn't as stunned as he had been when he learned Sansa was carrying Julianna, but he still felt a surge of protectiveness towards her. "You're certain?"

She nodded. "I've missed my last two moonbloods. At first, I thought it was the stress of our escape but then the sickness started." _We'll have another little one as sweet as Julianna._ He kissed her forehead pulled her into his arms, rubbing her back to soothe her nausea. "You're happy, aren't you, Jaime?"

"Of course I am." They had spoken about adding to their family, and they both wanted more children. Their babe had been such a joy that the thought of another one appealed to the both of them. "But you weren't sick at all with Julianna. Are you feeling all right?" Jaime worried that something was wrong with the babe, or with Sansa. "You said you've been sick before?"

"Once or twice," she said sheepishly. "My mother said that every babe is different. That she was sick when she carried some of us, but not others." That reassured him somewhat but Jaime knew they had to get to the Free Cities quickly. There was not a maester on board to take care of Sansa, should something go wrong and he had no intention of taking any chances with his wife's health.

"Perhaps you should go below deck and lie down? Let me escort you."

She laughed and pushed at him playfully. "I'm pregnant. I'm not an invalid." She reached up and touched his face. "I'm fine. It's just a bit of mother's sickness. We across the Realm when I was carrying Julianna. I can manage another week on a ship."

He nodded, holding her in his arms again and kissing the top of her head. "Promise me you won't wear yourself out."

"I promise. Tommen asked after Myrcella," Sansa said quietly against his chest. "He knows she's in Dorne and…he wondered if we would stop to see her. I told him probably not…that it was too dangerous to delay our trip to the Free Cities at all, but…he may ask you and I didn't want you to be caught off guard."

Jaime nodded. He rarely thought of the daughter he had fathered with Cersei. As a girl, Myrcella was even farther removed from him than Tommen and Joffrey. She was always with her septa. He knew that she resembled her mother and seem good-natured like Tommen. Other than that, Jaime could not have called forth a single memory of the girl. _Julianna is my daughter. Not Myrcella._ He knew it was terrible of him to think so…but it was how he felt. Myrcella was Cersei's daughter. And he did not know her at all.

Jaime and Sansa both turned towards the captain at the sound of shouting. As he listened carefully, Jaime realized that a ship was approaching and turned to look. It was far in the distance, but the orange sails of Sunspear were clear to him. "How long until they reach us?" Jaime asked. "If we continue at full speed?" He knew full-well they could not outpace the ship with the damaged mast.

"They will overtake us by tomorrow morning."

Sansa looked at Jaime fearfully, even as the ship raised the white flag. _I fell for that once with Daenerys. I'll not be tricked again._ He knew that it was too much to hope that the Martell vessel did not know who they were pursuing. The Martells blamed House Lannister for Princess Elia's death. He wondered if they also blamed the Lannisters for Prince Oberyn's death during Tyrion's trial by combat. _One thing's for certain – they aren't coming to offer us asylum from Daenerys Targaryen._

…

There was a time when Tyrion would have given anything to be wed to a beautiful, high-born girl like Margaery Tyrell. Yet now, as he entered his bedchamber on this, his wedding night, he felt nothing but dread. He supposed part of it was because of who the girl was. Margaery Tyrell was no innocent flower. She was conniving and power-hungry. She and her wily old grandmother had nearly been the death of him.

Tyrion had wanted to refuse the marriage, but he knew that Daenerys would not look upon such a refusal with a kind eye. She needed to get the former queen under her thumb, and a marriage to her Hand was the most logical option.

Tyrion had exacted an agreement from the Queen that Lady Margaery's family was not welcome in King's Landing. He certainly did not intend to suffer the same fate as Joffrey. Only Lord Tyrell had been permitted to travel north, in order to give her hand to Tyrion during the ceremony in the Great Sept. Lord Tyrell was to leave straight away to return to Highgarden. There was no mistaking the contempt and disgust in the man's eyes when he handed his perfect little rose over to the monster of Casterly Rock. _Daenerys's dragons were the only thing keeping him from speaking his mind._

As his eyes adjusted to the darkness, Tyrion looked around his bedchamber and saw no sign of his lady wife. _Perhaps she's hidden in father's carriage, and plans to return to Highgarden in the morning._ He couldn't much blame her if she had no desire to lie with him. No woman had ever lain with him without being tossed some of his father's gold. _Except for Tysha._

Tyron heard rustling from behind the dressing screen and he was clearly able to see her moving back there. _By design, no doubt_, he thought as he sat in a chair before the fire, warming his hands. Despite himself, he turned and watched her, taking in the outline of her pert breasts as she removed her clothes. He wondered if she actually intended to let him between her legs._ She somehow managed to get through three marriages without a proper bedding. Of course, Joffrey was killed at their wedding feast, Tommen was a child, and Renly preferred her brother._ He shuddered to think what she had planned for him.

Tyrion expected her to emerge from behind her screens in some ridiculous virginal confection, but instead she emerged completely naked. _She is beautiful_. He swallowed hard as he felt his body begin to react to the sight of Margaery Tyrell in all her naked glory.

"Would you like some wine?" she asked in a low voice, turning to pour a cup before he answered. His eyes slid over her firm arse and Tyrion knew he was in trouble. _Gods help me…at least I'll die well satisfied._ She approached him with the cup, completely unashamed of her nudity and held it out to him.

Tyrion raised an eyebrow. "Drink some yourself, first. My lady."

She sighed and looked heavenward before taking and large swallow. Margaery stood looking at him as if he were a complete dolt. "It's perfectly safe," she said sweetly, handing the cup to him.

Relieved, Tyrion drained the cup and crossed the room to refill it. He'd been too fearful of poisoning to drink a single drop at their wedding feast. And his mind and body were such a jumble, he needed some drink to dull his senses.

"May I call you Tyrion?"

"You may." He returned to his chair, drinking his wine and watching her warily.

"I know you don't trust me," she began, kneeling on the furs before him. She moved her hands to his tunic, beginning to undress him, and Tyrion was too startled to even respond. All he could do was watch her, his eyes riveted to her long elegant fingers. "You will trust me. In time," she continued, slipping his vest from his shoulders. "If I cannot be queen…I shall be the wife of the most powerful man in the kingdom."

She had stripped his tunic from his body and removed his boots, leaving him in nothing but his breeches. Tyrion began to feel uncomfortable and ashamed as her fingers moved to the laces of his breeches. He stilled her hands with his own and she looked up at him in question. _She's the first woman I'm not paying since I was thirteen._ A paid whore knew better than to show her disgust at his twisted, deformed body. _But this girl will not._

"It's all right, Tyrion," she whispered, brushing his hands aside and resuming her efforts to undress him. He couldn't look at her when she finally revealed his body to her eyes. He didn't want to see the disgust in her eyes. He focused his eyes over her shoulder, on the fire, even as her hand brushed his cock and it sprang to life.

_What in the seven hells is wrong with you? Can you only fuck a woman if you're paying her?_ Tyrion could hear his father's voice in his head.

Tyrion desperately found his voice. "Perhaps we should blow out the candles."

"Why?" She sat up on her knees, moving closer to him and resting her elbows on the arms of his chair. Her breasts were practically brushing his chest. "Don't you wish to look upon my body?"

"You're very beautiful, my lady," he replied automatically. "As I expect you already know."

"Margaery," she said, a soft smile on her lips. "Call me Margaery."

"Margaery," he repeated in a whisper, hesitantly reaching to touch her breasts. He waited for her to flinch away from him, but she didn't, though he saw from her expression that she wasn't expecting his touch. "You don't seem at all nervous at the prospect of giving up your maidenhead."

She shrugged, her breath catching as he tugged at her nipples. "I see no reason to be nervous. A bedding is expected. And…I expect you will be rather…skilled…at this. More so than any of my other husbands would have been." She closed her eyes briefly in pleasure as Tyrion watched her carefully, trying to determine if she was acting or actually enjoying his touch. Tyrion knew that he wouldn't find love with Margaery Tyrell as Jamie had with Sansa. But he supposed he could indulge in the pleasure of her body. Even if it meant he'd have to sleep with one eye open.

Tyrion felt her hand sliding along his thigh until it closed over his length and she began stroking him in a way that showed experience. He met her eyes and she shrugged. "There are many things that…bring pleasure which do not take a girl's maidenhead. We're much more free with such things in Highgarden than in the rest of Westeros. I should think you would appreciate that," she finished with a sly smile.

He sat forward and pushed her onto the furs, climbing on top of her. He touched and kissed and sucked at her skin, moving his mouth and hands all over her body until she was wet and quivering but she stopped him before he could mount her. _She's come to her senses._

"Tonight we must go to the bed," she whispered, taking his hand. "You may take me on the floor another night." He just looked at her, not understanding. "There must be proof on the sheets in the morning," she explained.

Tyrion allowed her to lead him to the bed, though he could scarce walk or think clearly, so consumed was he with arousal. She lay on her back, making room for him between her thighs. Before he entered her, he had the fleeting thought that this girl would have been the perfect wife for Lord Tywin. _I doubt she's ever truly lost focus from her goal._ Tyrion pushed aside all thoughts of his father and groaned against Margaery's breasts in pleasure as he pushed inside her and took his pleasure.

He tried to remember that he was not to lower his guard with his lady wife, but it was awful difficult to hold that thought at the moment. The began moaning and running her hands over his body. The sounds she was making convinced him that she was taking pleasure in their fucking as well.

_I suppose there are worse ways to die._

…

Jaime stood on the deck of the ship with Sansa by his side. His men were lined up at the railing, crossbows in hand, as the smaller skiff, neared. Now that it was closer, the sigil of Sunspear was clearly visible on its sails. As the Captain had predicted, it had not taken more than a day for the other ship to gain on them.

Jaime saw Prince Doran standing at the helm, and a blonde girl stood at his side. Jaime knew the girl must be Myrcella. _Does she know I'm her father? Does she know I killed her mother? _He felt his stomach tighten in a knot at the prospect of seeing Myrcella under these circumstances. _Perhaps she hates me and came to watch her guardian kill me_. Jaime's anxiety increased the closer they came and he felt Sansa squeeze his hand.

"Don't worry, Jaime. I'm here with you."

He looked down at Sansa and saw unease in her eyes as well. The children had been sent below deck, but she had insisted on staying with him. He saw that his little wife's gaze was trained on Myrcella – not the Dornish prince. _Why would the girl make her so disquiet?_

He didn't have the chance to ask her, though, as the Dornish vessel grew nearer, its white flag still raised. Jaime had instructed his captain to do likewise, but he was far from relaxed, having ordered his men to arm themselves with their crossbows, should the Dornish attempt to board their ship.

Jaime glanced down at Sansa again. _I suppose this is our last hurdle before we reach the Free Cities. Our last battle with the past._

…

_Thank you all for sticking with the story. For all of Tyrion's confidence with women, I thought that it would evaporate (at least for a moment) when he was faced with a high-born in his bed, rather than a whore. Bedding Margaery would play on all of his insecurities (just as Sansa's reaction to him in the book did)._

_Jaime and Sansa will have more to do now than they have for the past few chapters which have been a bit fluffy. (Trying to mix the fluff with the horror of this series is a challenge, but I don't want to write all doom and gloom.) The next chapter is going to explore Sansa's feelings about Myrcella – who is Jaime's daughter though she looks so much like Cersei – and the fear and anxiety their reunion may cause Sansa._

_Let me know what your thoughts are and again, thank you for reading and reviewing._


	88. Chapter 88

_I made Myrcella older than in the books, so that I could maintain the three year age difference between the two of them. And, it will be obvious that Myrcella's storyline from the books is different than in this story._

…

Chapter 88

Sansa looked at Jaime nervously as the smaller ship with the orange sails neared theirs. She recognized the sigil of House Martell emblazoned on the sails. She couldn't help feeling a small tremor of fear. _Another enemy. _Jaime had told her plenty of times that the Martells hated him because of what his father's men had done to Princess Elia during the Sack of King's Landing. _That was Lord Tywin's brutality, not Jaime's. The Prince must know that. Anyone who knows anything of Lord Tywin would know it was his order._ Tommen stood in front of them, resting his hands on the railings and watching the approaching ship while Sansa held Julianna in her arms. The happy babe was pointing at the ship and smiling merrily.

"Boat?" she asked, looking at Jaime for confirmation, though he didn't notice in his distraction. He seemed to be preparing himself for a confrontation and Sansa prayed they would not have to fight a battle while at sea.

"Yes, sweetling," Sansa answered, kissing her daughter's cheek. "That's a boat."

"Pia, help Lady Sansa and the children below deck."

Sansa looked at Jaime sharply. _He's lost his senses if he thinks I'm going to sit below and worry, not knowing what is happening up here._ She took Tommen's hand and walked him over to where Pia stood. Sansa handed Julianna over to her handmaiden and told Tommen to go with them to wait below deck.

"Can't I stay up here with you and Uncle Jaime?" he asked, looking up at her and tugging at her hand. "I want to see Cella."

"I know, sweetling. But we don't even know for certain that is Myrcella on the ship. If it is, you'll see her. I promise. But right now, please do as we ask." He nodded solemnly and followed Pia down below, stopping at the top of the steps and straining to see the boat again before continuing down to their room.

Once the children were gone, Sansa stood slightly behind Jaime, looking out at the approaching ship again and felt her heart skip a beat. _It _is_ Myrcella. _She knew it in her heart, though she had hoped that they were wrong. It was a silly thought. Myrcella was probably the only blonde head in all of Dorne. Sansa glanced at Jaime again, wondering what he was thinking as his daughter approached them. A daughter he had never claimed. _I wonder if she knows that Jaime is her father._

Tommen had been younger and sheltered from all of the "rumors" of incest by Cersei. But Myrcella had been old enough to understand Stannis Baratheon's missives and to hear the gossip swirling around King's Landing. And in Dorne, she may not have been protected at all from Stannis Baratheon's campaign to take the iron throne from the Lannisters.

Sansa felt differently about Jaime being reunited with Myrcella than she had with Tommen, and she didn't understand why. She had not felt a moment's hesitation at welcoming the little boy into their family. The little boy that she now considered to be hers. _Perhaps because he reminds me of a smaller Jaime. _But she felt something akin to fear at the prospect of Myrcella being theirs to raise as well. _She used to look so much like Cersei. What if she has developed Cersei's cruelty?_

"Why aren't you below deck with the children as I asked?"

Sansa looked up to see Jaime approaching her, his displeasure evident. "I'm not a child, Jaime. And I won't hide away like a child."

"Sansa, you know that the Martells will support any Targaryen over a Lannister. Doran Martell may very well intend to return us to Westeros as prisoners of the crown. I can't worry about your safety – or that of our children - when I speak with the Prince. Have you forgotten what the Unsullied did to Julianna to gain the upper hand?"

"Of course I haven't forgotten. But I'm your lady wife and I should be by your side when you speak with the Prince," she said stubbornly.

"Seven Hells, Sansa. You're not welcoming him to afternoon tea at Casterly Rock. He'll forgive you for not properly receiving him. You - and the child you're carrying - are safer below deck."

"I'm not leaving." She could see that he was considering throwing her over his shoulder and carrying her down below and she felt a small tremor of fear as she steadied herself, preparing to resist if he did anything of the sort, no matter how unladylike she was forced to be. She'd like to think he wouldn't disgrace her in front of his men in such a manner, but she knew better. _Jaime has no sense of propriety. _

"You honestly want to see Myrcella?" he asked quietly. "Do you want to see Cersei's face again? To remember all of the cruelty she inflicted on you? Because I promise you, that's what you'll see when you look at Myrcella."

"And what will you see when _you_ look at her?" _I know what he'll see. He'll see the sister he loved for most of his life. He'll see the woman he killed._ "I expect it will be more difficult for you than for me and I won't allow you to send me away." He seemed surprised by her words. She had never been so defiant with him, but Sansa firmly believed that she belonged by his side. Sansa rested her hands on his chest. "Please let me stay with you, Jaime," she whispered, tilting her head up at him.

Jaime stared at her for a long time before he wrapped his arms around her, holding her tightly and pressing his forehead against hers. Sansa relaxed, assured that he was prepared to give in to her wishes. She knew full well how difficult it would be for him to see Myrcella and she was determined to be with him. And, if she was entirely honest, she wanted to see Myrcella for herself. She wanted to see if she saw the good in her that was in Jaime and Tommen, or if she only saw Cersei's poison. _She's Jaime's daughter. She's part of him. _Sansa kept telling herself that.

Jaime's men lined up at the railing of the ship – protecting their lord and lady - with crossbows at the ready. Sansa saw the Prince's eyes narrow as he took in the show of force, and he shook his head in annoyance. His men had not drawn their weapons, which gave Sansa hope that this meeting would be peaceful. The Prince leaned against the railing of his own ship, a cane in his free hand, and Sansa saw the resemblance to his brother, Oberyn Martell. Prince Doran was older and seemed weary. _He's out-lived all of his siblings. _Sansa had an idea how the Prince must feel. To be the only one left. She thought of what happened to Princess Elia and Prince Oberyn at the hands of the Mountain, and could not help feeling sorry for Prince Doran.

Her eyes moved to the girl at his side and she nearly gasped. Sansa did the math in her head and knew that Myrcella was five and ten years old now. And she looked so much like her mother, it was as if Cersei Lannister had come back from the dead. She clenched her hands together to stop them from shaking. Jaime was riveted to the sight of her and Myrcella returned his intense stare, though her gaze was not a particularly friendly one.

"Ser Jaime. I wonder what brings you so far from Casterly Rock," the Prince called out.

"The weather this far South seemed more appropriate to a pleasure cruise than the Bay outside Lannisport. Winter and all." Sansa sighed at his insolence and looked between the Prince and Jaime. She wondered if it was possible that the Dornish Prince didn't know that the Queen had ordered Jaime's death. "It seemed you knew who it was you were meeting. I doubt you sail out to meet all who pass through Dornish waters."

She watched the Prince restrain his temper, knowing Jaime had him outmanned. _Perhaps that is a sign that he does not mean to harm us. If he did…he'd have brought more soldiers with him. _"May my young ward and I come aboard?" he asked, gesturing to Myrcella beside him. "It is rather uncivilized for us to shout across the bows of our ships at one another."

"It's preferable to shooting arrows at one another," Jaime said dryly. Sansa bumped him with her foot, wishing he would not be so provocative. "The Prince of Dorne and Princess Myrcella may come aboard," Jaime stated to both his own men and the Dornish, making it clear that the Dornish soldiers would not be permitted to board their ship. Sansa tried to subtly look at Myrcella as Gendry and one of Jaime's soldiers helped her on board. She still looked very young. And in her eyes, Sansa saw the kindness and goodness that she remembered, though Sansa had been taken in before by appearances of goodness and kindness. She recalled that she believed Cersei to be a good person until she'd ordered Lady killed.

"Do you mind if we sit?" the Prince asked, gesturing to some carved wooden chairs that Sansa had ordered carried up onto the deck once the weather had improved and she and Julianna were spending more time out of doors. Jaime nodded, gesturing for Prince Doran to lead the way. She saw that he walked with a bit of a limp, leaning heavily on the cane in his hand. Once they were all seated, Sansa was introduced to the Prince, though he did not seem to care much for pleasantries. Before she could say anything to Myrcella, the Prince began speaking.

"Word did reach us here in Dorne that you had fled Westeros once Queen Daenerys took the throne and decided to put you to death. The Lord of Starfall sent a scout out when you crossed into Dornish waters. They sent word to us at Sunspear." He glanced up at their ship. "Your sails do not bear a sigil but…no one but a Lannister could afford such a vessel in these times of war. You may not know it but, Queen Daenerys has put a price on your head. A lordship for anyone who brings you to her. Dead or alive."

Sansa looked at Jaime in alarm, but he did not seem at all surprised at such a turn of events. _Does this mean we'll always have to look over our shoulders?_ Sansa realized they would have to be heavily guarded for the rest of their lives. She pushed those thoughts aside for the moment, as the Prince continued.

"I don't know how you managed to escape Daenerys but…she is furious. She requested the return of my ward to King's Landing. I can only imagine what plans she has for the Princess," he drawled slowly, turning to look at Myrcella. "Though, she'd likely have my tongue cut out for referring to her by such a title."

_Would he actually turn her over to the Dragon Queen? _She could see that Jaime feared he would send Myrcella back to King's Landing – to take his punishment for him.

"I will not be accommodating her. My son is…quite fond of his betrothed." She saw Myrcella blush and look down. "My daughter, Arianne, had suggested challenging Daenerys for the Iron Throne. Under Dornish law, Myrcella should have inherited before her younger brother. However, there is the matter of her true paternity."

Sansa felt Jaime tense beside her at his words and she saw the emotion in Myrcella's eyes, though she quickly turned her face away from both she and Jaime. _She already knows Jaime is her father, then._ She should have guessed that. The girl had not greeted Jaime at all, merely silently followed the Prince who had taken her in. _Though, why is he here with us now? He must plan to abandon Myrcella here with us on this ship. To put her in her father's custody._

Prince Doran," Sansa began, desperate to know his intentions for certain. "What is it you want of us? I don't believe a man of your stature would wish for a lordship in Westeros to be bestowed upon him. So…there'd be no reason for you to harm us."

"No, my lady. I don't intend to become involved in Westeros politics. I want to hear from the Kingslayer about the death of my brother. He already written of the slaughter of my sister and her children on your father's orders before being killed himself by the same Lannister bannerman."

"It was his need for vengeance that killed your brother," Jaime murmured. "He had very nearly bested the Mountain. But his insistence on hearing the man admit what he'd done to Elia…it was his undoing. "

"Why didn't you protect her?"

"I didn't know what my father had intended. If I had…I would have tried to stop them. Even if they were my father's own men."

The prince nodded, rising to his feet, knowing nothing Jaime could say would comfort him. He rested a hand on Myrcella's shoulder. "We'll leave when you're ready," he said to her quietly, before returning to his ship. Jaime and Sansa looked at one another in confusion. _Is he leaving her here or not?_

"May I see Tommen?" Myrcella asked, her soft voice cutting through the tension as Jaime and Sansa tried to determine what the Prince was after. "Before I return to Sunspear? That was him standing beside you, wasn't it?" Sansa looked at Jaime, her eyebrow raised in question. He nodded and Sansa sent a guard to bring him back onto the deck of the ship.

"It's true, isn't it?"

Sansa knew what Myrcella was asking - for confirmation that Jaime was her father. She could see that Myrcella desperately wanted to believe that the rumors of incest were just that. But when he didn't deny it – didn't utter a word - she seemed to know that the answer was yes, and wiped the tears that began to form in her eyes.

"Myrcella-" Sansa began, but the girl shook her head, turning her attention to her brother as he came bounding up onto the deck and threw himself into her arms, smiling happily. Pia was trailing behind him and looked at Sansa apologetically. "The babe so wanted to go with him."

"It's all right," Sansa said, taking Julianna from her. She held her daughter on her lap as Tommen and Myrcella spoke to one another about what had happened to them since she left for Dorne. As he told her about the adventures they'd had, and how he wasn't King anymore, Jaime rose to his feet and walked to the edge of the railing.

Sansa wondered if he simply couldn't bear the sight of her – as much as she looked like Cersei. She followed him, not certain what she could say or do to offer comfort. So, she simply leaned against him, watching as the babe grabbed at his tunic. Jaime smiled sadly at Julianna, rubbing her little cheek with his thumb. Sansa glanced back and Tommen and Myrcella and saw that she was watching them, as Tommen happily chatted away at her. She wondered what the girl thought, seeing them together. Myrcella had curiously studied Julianna from the moment she was placed in Sansa's lap. _She knows that the babe is her sister._

Myrcella began to walk towards them, gesturing for Tommen to wait where he was, and came straight up to Jaime, her eyes as piercing as Cersei's. Though not nearly as cold.

"I always wondered why you were not closer to me. To us. Uncle Tyrion would play with us, but you never did. It seemed so strange to me, since you were so close to…Mother. You always seemed…unhappy and I thought it was because you could never marry or have a family of your own but…you had one. You had children that you didn't want to know." Myrcella's eyes were filled with tears and Sansa could see that Jaime was struggling not to cry himself. "When I heard the truth…I wondered why you never wanted to know me. Why you never wanted to know your own daughter. I wanted to know you. Even when I thought you were only my uncle." She wiped her eyes, looking at Julianna. "Now you have a daughter. One you know and love and who will call you father."

"You –" Jaime cleared his throat. "I never meant to hurt you. Any of you."

Sansa knew he wanted to say more, but wasn't able to, so she gently squeezed his hand. "What will you do now, Myrcella?"

She smiled sadly. "I can never go home. Even if I wished to. I'd be sentenced to death for…my parents' sins and called an abomination. In Dorne, being a bastard is not as much of a stigma, as it is in the rest of Westeros. They don't care who my parents were. Prince Oberyn had many bastards and they are treated as family. Though…his own sister did not bear any of them."

Sansa saw Jaime flinch as Myrcella called herself a bastard. Though she could not help but feel relief that the girl did not plan to go with them. "Trystane Martell still wishes for us to marry. This is a better life than I would have otherwise. Who would want me? A bastard girl born of…unspeakable acts. If I were to return home…I'd be treated as nothing but a whore."

Jaime looked away in shame and Sansa suddenly wanted the girl gone. _She has every reason to be upset and to lash out, but I can't allow her to hurt Jaime like this. She needs to go._ As she thought of the girl returning to Dorne, Sansa realized that she couldn't let her go in good conscience, unless she knew the girl would not be harmed. _She may look like Cersei and she may be causing Jaime pain, but she's still a young girl._

"Myrcella," Sansa began, lowering her voice so she could speak privately to her. "You're certain that you wish to stay in Dorne. Are you safe with them?" Sansa knew about being a hostage. She knew what it was like to be trapped with people who hurt and tormented her, all while she had been unable to speak up. "They aren't…treating you as I was treated? When I was betrothed to Joffrey?"

She shook her head. "I may have been given to them, as if I were a horse or a sword, instead of a person, but…they have never harmed me. Or deceived me as my own family has. I only wished to see Tommen one last time."

Sansa looked at the girl's face, and the way she looked at Jaime, and could see that Myrcella had wanted to see him as well. _She acts indifferent and angry but her eyes keep traveling to Jaime, searching his face as if she is looking for something. _She knew that Myrcella had wanted to look at him once, knowing he was her father.

"How did Mother die?" she asked, looking down at her hands.

"An…assassin-" Jaime began, but then changed course. "Cersei…never knew when to stop. She was determined and relentless when she wanted something and it got her killed."

"Who killed her?" Myrcella asked, though from her tone of voice, she seemed to suspect Jaime. "Nevermind. You won't tell me the truth anyway. You and Mother…have lied to me my whole life. From the moment I was born. It was foolish of me to expect the truth now."

Sansa saw how much Myrcella's words hurt him, though there was some truth there. She turned to walk away from them and then turned back suddenly. "Sansa, you'll – you'll be kind to Tommen? Despite the horrible things Mother and Joff did to you? Tommen deserves…a mother. He says you have treated him well. That he is happy and loves…both of you. And that he loves…" She trailed off, looking at Julianna. _He told her he loves Julianna._

Sansa nodded. "We will both take good care of your brother," she replied, wanting her to know that Jaime was learning to be a father to Tommen. _He would try to be a father to her as well, given the chance. Though I don't know that he would be successful. _"Tommen will be loved. You never need worry for him."

Myrcella looked at Jaime once more. "You should tell Tommen the truth. Before he's old enough to realize how awful it all is. Before he understands on his own. And knows how many died because of what you and Mother did." With those words, she walked away from Jaime and returned to Tommen. He turned away from her, leaning against the railing and wiped his eyes.

"Dada?" Julianna said, looking up at Jaime.

"He's all right," Sansa whispered, kissing the top of Julianna's head. Sansa reached up and cupped his cheek. Jaime closed his eyes and leaned into her touch. She watched Myrcella speak with Tommen, and knew the moment she told him goodbye, because the little boy began to cry. She embraced him tightly for a long time, murmuring softly in his ear before taking Gendry's hand to step back onto Prince Doran's boat.

"She's leaving," Sansa whispered, going to Tommen so she could comfort him.

"Myrcella?" Jaime called out. She stopped and looked at him, the pain evident in both their eyes. "I'm sorry. For all of my mistakes. I'm sorry for hurting you."

She didn't say anything in response. She merely continued onto the Dornish vessel, leaving her past – her family – behind.

As the ship sailed away from them, Tommen stood at the rail crying. Sansa had put Julianna on her feet, and she toddled over to Tommen, a stricken expression on her face as she reached for him. "No cry."

Sansa knelt between them, hugging Tommen. "He's sad to say goodbye to his sister," she explained, knowing Julianna didn't understand. She kissed Tommen's temple, hugging him. "You still have Julianna to be with you. And me and Jaime." She glanced up at Jaime and saw him looking out at the ship sailing away from them, a haunted expression on his face.

"What did we do?" he murmured, so low she could barely hear him.

…

_Thanks for reading and thank you so much to all of you who take the time to review. I had toyed with Myrcella joining them on their journey, but Jaime and Sansa already have a lot to deal with. And he hasn't even told Tommen that he's his father._

_Next chapter: Jaime and Sansa talk about Myrcella and we'll check in with someone in Westeros (haven't decided who, yet)_


	89. Chapter 89

Chapter 89

…

Jaime sat beside Tommen on his little bed. He had stopped Sansa as she carried Julianna off to bed, and taken the babe from her arms, insisting that he would put the children to bed. He had told her she should rest because of the babe growing inside her, but he could see in her eyes that she didn't believe his reasons. But Sansa gave in to his wishes and remained in their bedchamber, allowing Jaime to read the children their story and tuck them in for the night. The truth was, after seeing Myrcella, he wanted to be with those of his children who didn't hate him. Julianna and Tommen were both so affectionate towards him that it almost made him forget how much Myrcella despised him.

Jaime looked down at Julianna, who was cuddled up on his lap. She was half asleep, gripping his tunic possessively as she rested her head against his chest while Tommen read a bedtime story aloud. As he sat with them, stroking Julianna's hair and listening to Tommen read, Jaime found his mind wandering back to Myrcella. _My daughter_. Jaime shook his head. It didn't feel quite right to describe her that way. She was Cersei's daughter. She was never _his _daughter. It had not escaped his notice that the very sight of him had caused her pain. He had been curious to see her, but the moment he met her eyes, he only saw Cersei looking back at him. The accusation in her eyes – and her words - had cut him to the quick.

Jaime had never before given any thought to what the children felt for him. He had thought they were as indifferent to him as he was towards them. And now he could not stop thinking about how it had hurt to see the way Myrcella looked at him. As if she wished more than anything that he wasn't her father. As if he had ruined her life. _I never wanted to hurt her. Cersei convinced me it was best for them that I stay away. _And, he supposed, it was easier to stay away from them. He'd not truly been a father until the moment he knew Sansa was carrying his child. Until the moment Julianna was placed in his arms.

"That was the end, Uncle Jaime," Tommen whispered, looking up at him.

Jaime nodded, lifting the sleeping babe into his arms and placing her in her bed. As he stared at his daughter who, just like Myrcella, was the picture of her mother, Jaime felt nothing but regret at how he and Cersei had affected their children's lives. _Julianna is the only daughter I've ever known or loved. But Myrcella deserves better. She deserves to be loved by her father. _He wished he could love her as he should – as a father should – but he didn't feel the same connection with her as he felt with Julianna. Or even with Tommen. Jaime leaned over and kissed her forehead, covering her with her blanket. He smiled at the blanket Sansa had made her – carefully stitched with golden lions and silver direwolves running together.

"Good night, Uncle," Tommen said quietly, sliding under the covers to lie down, once the babe settled.

He looked at Tommen and saw such goodness and innocence. _Would he even understand if I were to tell him that I'm his father? _Jaime sat beside Tommen again. "Are you feeling better? I know you were sad when Myrcella returned to Dorne."

Jaime immediately regretted his words as the boy's eyes filled with tears. "Why didn't Cella come with us?"

"I know you miss her and that you wanted Myrcella to come with us." Tommen nodded, leaning against Jaime's arm. "But she's happy in Dorne. And I know you want her to be happy." Jaime hesitantly held the boy against him, wanting to comfort him but not knowing how. _Perhaps I should have let Sansa tuck him in for the night._ "You're happy aren't you? Living with me and Sansa?"

Tommen looked up at him and nodded, wiping his tears. "I don't ever want to stop living with you and Sansa and Julianna." Tommen looked down and Jaime saw that he was fearful to speak his next words. "Myrcella looked so much like mother. I miss her. Do you miss mother?"

_Everyday._ Part of him felt that he was betraying Sansa by even thinking of Cersei. He didn't miss being her lover. He didn't miss the damage their relationship caused. But he missed his sister. He missed his twin – the person who had been by his side since birth. He missed the girl she was when they were growing up and inseparable.

"I do miss her. Just as you miss Myrcella."

"But it's all right for us to be happy now. With Sansa and Julianna." Jaime looked at him, wondering if Sansa had spoken to him. "That's what Myrcella said. She said that Sansa is my mother now and that she'll take care of me."

Jaime didn't know how to respond to the boy, and instead kissed the top of his head and tucked him in. "Sansa loves you very much. As do I. And you will always have a home with us. I promise you that."

"I love you, too, Uncle."

Jaime closed the door to the children's room and found Sansa in bed waiting for him. She smiled when she saw him, but he could see the worry in her eyes as she watched him undress. He had noticed her staring at him, while he watched Myrcella sail away. Jaime had made an effort to reassure her that he was well. That Myrcella had not hurt him. But Sansa knew him well enough not to be fooled by his efforts to hide his feelings.

Jaime joined her in bed, sighing as he leaned against the pillows. She slowly moved toward him, running her hand over his chest, and kissed him softly. "Is everything all right?"

"Of course. Tommen read a story to Julianna and they're both sleeping. "

"That's not what I meant." She kissed his cheek and nuzzled against his neck.

"I know."

"I wish that you would talk to me. About Myrcella."

Jaime looked at his sweet wife and, as much as he wanted to allow her to comfort him, he knew he could not be so cruel to her. He had seen the fear in her eyes at the prospect of seeing Myrcella. He knew she feared they would have to take her in, as well as Tommen. He could scarce blame her. Especially when she saw how much Myrcella looked like Cersei. Perhaps sensing his reticence, Sansa began speaking, cuddling against him. "I was afraid that Myrcella was going to live with us. I know it's terrible of me but…she looks so like Cersei and I was afraid that you would return to being consumed with guilt over…Cersei's death and…I was afraid that it would be as if Cersei were living with us. That you would never be able to escape the…hold she had over you. I know it's silly. Myrcella's a sweet girl and if you ever want her to be with us I-"

"She doesn't want that, Sansa. You need not worry."

Sansa sat up beside him, looking him in the eyes. Jaime broke her gaze, unable to withstand her scrutiny. "I think you want a relationship with her. Maybe not as her father but…I think you do care for her. I saw how much her words hurt you," Sansa whispered, running her fingers over his hair.

Jaime took the comfort Sansa offered him, leaning to rest his head on her shoulder. "I wish I had said more to her," he whispered against Sansa's neck and she wrapped her arms around him, holding him in her arms. "That I could have made her understand. Not that I'm certain that I understand myself. I may never see her again and…I didn't expect her to look so much like…her mother and I couldn't seem to find the words. Or, perhaps I'm simply a terrible father."

He heard Sansa huff. "You know that's not true. You are such a loving father to Julianna. And to Tommen. And I know you'll love our new little one, as well."

Jaime moved his hand to her still-flat belly, wondering about the babe growing inside of her. "I don't deserve this family you've given me. I don't deserve this when Myrcella's life is in ruins because of me. She was a princess and now…" _She's a bastard girl born of my aberrant lust._ _And Cersei is rotting in her crypt._

"You do deserve happiness, Jaime. You've earned this family and we've built it together." She was quiet for a while, just rubbing her fingers through his hair. "I think Myrcella is right. You should tell Tommen the truth. I'm not telling you what to do but…you should try, Jaime. He will learn the truth eventually and it will be easier if he hears it from you."

The thought of telling Tommen the truth terrified him. He'd toyed with the idea of telling Tommen that he was his father several times since the boy started living with them. But he'd been too cowardly to do so. And now he had no desire to tell him the truth. He didn't want Tommen to look at him the way that Myrcella had. He had just begun to form a relationship with Tommen. His son. He had genuinely come to love the boy.

"I don't know how to tell him something like that."

Sansa kissed the top of his head. "You'll find the words, Jaime. He loves you so much. You must see the way he follows you around, trying to be like you. You may have gotten started late but…you're more a father to him than King Robert ever was." Jaime smiled to himself, thinking of how Tommen had become his little companion during their journey.

Sansa leaned back against the pillows, gently guiding Jaime to rest his head on her chest. He closed his eyes in pleasure and rested his hand on her belly as Sansa held him and kissed the top of his head. "I could not imagine a better father for my children. Myrcella would be lucky to have you in her life. Please don't think you're not a good father. Don't ever think that, Jaime."

He nodded against her, not entirely convinced, and closed his eyes, trying to forget the pain of Myrcella's rejection of him. _She's well enough in Dorne, with people to care for her. And I can raise Tommen and give him a good home with a family that loves him. _Jaime didn't know if caring for Tommen would make up for what he and Cersei had done to their children, but it was all he could do.

…

Tyrion continued digging through the crates of books and papers he'd located in the bowls of the Red Keep. They appeared to date back to Robert's Rebellion. Several crates were filled with journals and songs belonging to Rhaeger Targaryen. _However did these survive Robert's reign?_ Tyrion had thought that Robert had destroyed every remnant of Prince Rhaeger, once he took the throne. He'd heard Robert bellow about his hatred for Rhaeger often enough. Yelling that he did not want to see anything that would remind him of the man who took his betrothed, Lyanna Stark. _Rapist_, he would call him.

Tyrion had always wanted to conduct an exploration of the relics and papers hidden away inside the Red Keep - to put together the history of the rulers of the Realm. But he'd not possessed the authority to do so until he was made Hand of the King. And then, when he served as Joffrey's Hand, they had been at war, and there was no time for such tasks. Now, the Realm was relatively stable and Tyrion had convinced Daenerys to allow the Northerners to battle amongst themselves.

Though the people were wary of a Targaryen on the throne again, they did not wish to face dragonfire. So they had grudgingly accepted her on the throne. For now. But, their songs were of others – largely Jaime and Sansa, thanks to Tyrion's work. He'd heard tell of songs of the Dragon Queen's cruelty to sweet King Tommen and Tyrion's own bravery against Joffrey the Wicked. _It's best to keep the Queen inside the Red Keep and far away from the smallfolk for a time._

Tyrion returned to his task, and found an old scroll with the Targaryen sigil on it and words that appeared to match the handwriting in Rhaeger's journals. _ "The dragon has three heads. There must be a third one."_ Tyrion read the words over and over in his head, trying to discern the meaning. _This appears to be in Prince Rhaeger's hand, judging by the writing in his journals. Does he mean a third child?_

Tyrion recalled that Princess Elia had fallen ill after the birth of both children. The doomed princess had been blamed for Rhaeger's actions with Lyanna Stark. He'd even heard Ser Kevan say that had Rhaeger wed Cersei, a healthier wife, he would not have looked twice at the Stark girl. _Did Rhaeger take Lyanna in hopes of fathering a third child?_

Tyrion recalled speaking to Jaime over the years about Rhaeger Targaryen. He knew his brother had admired the Prince very much and believed he would have made an excellent king. Once, Tyrion had asked Jaime if he knew why he would do something so stupid as to kidnap Lyanna Stark – starting a war - and Jaime had only said that circumstances may not have been as everyone believed. Jaime told him that Rhaeger had believed in dreams and visions. He had believed in fate and magic, allowing prophesies and passages he read to guide the course of his life.

Tyrion continued reading through Rhaeger's papers, and realized that Rhaeger had believed the prophecy had been fulfilled. There were journal entries made during the Rebellion – just before he left King's Landing for his fateful battle on the Trident – that spoke of the third head of the dragon. Before Tyrion could consider it further, he heard voices, one of which he recognized as the sweet voice of his lady wife. Luckily, he was small enough to duck below the crates and remain out of sight. Though not before glimpsing the long purple and silver robes of the man who walked with her. Varys had arranged their marriage and Tyrion was quite interested in hearing their conversation.

"I trust Lord Tyrion is proving himself a worthy husband, my lady."

"Tyrion is an amusing man. His wit…reminds me of my grandmother. And he has been…very kind to me. Considering," Margaery responded tactfully. Margaery was tactful about everything.

"My whispers tell me that you will likely find yourself with child soon."

"Is that not why those of noble birth marry? To produce heirs. Casterly Rock needs one."

_Casterly Rock already has an heir. A little red-haired one. _It almost cheered him to think of Margaery's reaction when he informed her of his intention to give the Rock back to Jaime and Sansa. The Tyrells already have Highgarden. There's no need for thorny roses to cover the walls of Casterly Rock. _It's always been meant for Jaime and I brought myself nothing but misery trying to show Lord Tywin that I deserved it._

_Any children Margaery bears me will have to inherit another estate. _He'd been wed to Margaery for nearly a moon's turn and she had found her way into his bed every night. It was unnerving how single-minded she was about fucking him once she climbed into his bed. Though she had been a maiden when they wed, she was far too comfortable giving and receiving pleasure not to have had a great deal of…training. He had bedded whores who were less sure of themselves.

Though he took pleasure in her body, Tyrion was not such a fool as to trust her. He was terrified to touch any flagon of wine that she had not sipped from first. He saw that his mistrust annoyed her. But he'd rather hurt her feelings than meet the same end as Joffrey had. Now that he saw his lady wife with Lord Varys, Tyrion began to wonder if the Master of Whispers had colluded with the Tyrells to kill his wretched nephew.

"My dear," he heard Varys say softly to Margaery," I realize that both you and your father were not…enthusiastic about this match. But I assure you, it is a far better one than Littlefinger gave you. Your marriage to Joffrey would have been nothing but a misery. And it would not have brought you the power you desired."

"I was Queen. What more power is there?"

Varys clucked his tongue in disappointment. "Lady Margaery, the person who sits on the Iron Throne is rarely the one with the power. A clever girl would not have wed Joffrey. She would have wed Lord Tywin. _He_ was where the actual power resided, even if Joffrey sat on the throne."

"Whatever is your point, Lord Varys?"

"The power now resides with your lord husband. The Queen is not weak…but she has not ruled before. She does not know her Realm or her people. And she trusts Lord Tyrion to teach her. The Queen will desire a friend – a confidant – and who better than the lady wife of her most trusted advisor? Provided, of course, that she sees you as an asset to him. It will serve you well to become a confidant to your husband as well."

"Tyrion does not trust me. With good reason," she allowed.

"Make him trust you. The person he is closest to is his brother. Now that Ser Jaime has fled the Realm with Lady Sansa, your lord husband will be looking for someone else to trust. You may not realize it, but you are in a position to rule the Realm my dear. Through your husband. Even Lord Tywin was ruled by his lady wife."

Tyrion suddenly wished that Jaime was there. Now that he had no one he could truly trust, he realized how much he'd relied on Jaime. He may have lied about Tysha, but he could admit that Jaime had done all in his power to try to right that wrong. He'd never lied about anything else. He'd never hurt  
Tyrion in any other way. _I can trust Jaime to tell me the truth. No one else._ Tyrion had finally been given all that he had ever wanted – a beautiful, high born lady wife, he was Hand of the Queen and Lord of Casterly Rock. And it wasn't enough. _I miss my brother._

Jaime and his children were the only family Tyrion had left. Though Ser Addam had written and advised that Lady Genna and Ser Kevan had both arrived at the Rock, he knew they would not forgive him for killing Lord Tywin. They had not loved him as much as Jaime. They would not embrace him or see him as their family again. Tyrion understood. He would not forgive anyone who took Jaime from him.

Tyrion resolved that he would re-double his efforts with the many singers that he had dispatched throughout the Realm. The Northerners, led by Brynden and Edmure Tully, were marching toward Winterfell and would soon make their stand against Roose Bolton. Once Winterfell was back in the hands of the Starks, he wanted the smallfolk clambering for the return of Lady Sansa. _She is the key to Daenerys allowing Jaime to return. I know she feels a kinship to the girl who was married off to a man she didn't love – only to find the love of her life. _The Queen had spoken of her marriage to Khal Drogo and how she had come to love him; just as Sansa had come to love Jaime.

Thoughts of his Stark good-sister made his thoughts return to Lady Lyanna, another Stark girl who influenced the Realm. If he was to understand the mystery of Rhaeger's journals, he would have to speak with someone who would know – someone who was there. Though anyone Tyrion could think of was dead now. _If only that little shit Joffrey had not taken Ned Stark's head. _Tyrion knew he would have to make a visit to Winterfell, if all went as expected, and Lady Stark reclaimed it from Roose Bolton. _Perhaps Lady Catelyn will know what her husband found when he reached the Tower of Joy._

…

_Next Chapter: Jaime and Sansa arrive in the Free Cities_


	90. Chapter 90

Chapter 90

…

The moment the islands of Lys became visible on the horizon, Sansa had felt a flutter of excitement. Though she couldn't discern more than several green dots in the distance, Jaime and Tommen had their map out and the captain assured them that it was Lys. This was the land she had dreamed of visiting as a young girl. The land that she always believed would be sunny and beautiful and perfect. And now it was to be her home. This was where she and Jaime would be safe and allowed to raise their family in peace. It was where their new baby – and any other children they had – would be born.

As the crew busied themselves with preparations to dock the ship and unload all that they had brought from Casterly Rock, Sansa sat on the deck of the ship with Tommen and Julianna, taking in the beauty of Essos as more and more of it came into view. She'd continued to be ill with mother's sickness, and was looking forward to getting off the ship and onto solid ground once again.

When they finally reached Lys, slowly sailing past the largest island, the beauty took Sansa's breath away. The island rose from the water, which was such a crystal clear blue that Sansa could see almost to the ocean floor. Most of the smaller islands were behind the main island, and couldn't be seen from where they were, but Sansa was already captivated with her new home.

She had never seen anything like Lys. Though the island had a sandy beach, it was topped with several large mountains that were covered in houses that almost appeared to be stacked one on top of the other. Sansa had never seen so many homes. She wondered how the Lysene lived so close to one another – she was used to large castles and huge plots of land. _I suppose this is what it is like in a city._ All of the houses on the mountainside were painted a pure white that made them appear to almost sparkle in the bright sunlight. The doors and roofs were painted a blue as bright as the sea. Sansa felt her heart beating faster and hugged Julianna in excitement. She'd never seen anything so beautiful before.

"Is that where we're going to live?" Tommen asked pointing at the houses on the mountainside, his eyes bright with curiosity.

"We're going to live somewhere on that island," Jaime answered from behind Sansa, wrapping his arms around her and Julianna at once. "Remember, I told you that some of my soldiers were traveling ahead of us? They were to find us somewhere to live. I'm certain you'll approve of our new home, Tommen."

That seemed to satisfy the boy, who nodded and turned back to look at Lys. Sansa looked up at Jaime, meeting his eyes. "That's our new life," she whispered. His eyes moved from hers to Julianna and back again.

"Our new life," he agreed, kissing Sansa first and then kissing the babe's head. She saw his eyes move to Tommen, an expression she could read on his face as he considered his young son, and Sansa wondered if he was thinking about the many times he had asked Cersei to run away with him to the Free Cities. _She could have had this life with him, if she had not wanted the Iron Throne more than Jaime._ She knew how much it had hurt him that Cersei did not love him enough to choose him over her desire for power. Sansa turned toward Jaime and hugged him, knowing he might need comfort, caging Julianna between them, who began giggling happily.

"I love you. And I will always choose you, over everything," she whispered, stroking his now clean-shaven face. It had grown quite warm once they neared Essos. Jaime had shaved his beard and Sansa had begun to wear some of her summer dresses from King's Landing, in an effort to keep cool.

He seemed to know that she was thinking about his past with Cersei. "Sansa, there's no one I would rather be here with. No one I would rather share this life with." She nodded against his chest.

"Look!" Tommen called out, pointing at the brightly-colored tents that stretched out into the distance, past the beaches and the harbor. Sansa knew that was the marketplace where smugglers and traders sold their wares from Westeros and the rest of Essos. Jaime had said she would be able to visit the markets, and the prospect excited her. She had wanted to shop in the markets in King's Landing, but she had not been allowed – first her father thought it too dangerous and then she was a hostage and not permitted to leave the Red Keep.

Jaime took Julianna from her arms and Sansa knelt beside Tommen at the railing, knowing he was just as enchanted as she was by what they saw. She and Tommen pointed things out to one another and made plans to explore the island. The beauty of the southern isles far exceeded Sansa's imagination. While they had left a cold and frozen land, Lys was warm and shining, with bright colors everywhere. The Lysene were not hidden inside their homes to keep warm, but lounging on the beaches, or trading in the busy marketplace. Sansa looked over and saw Pia and Gendry gaping in amazement from the side of the ship. _They may not have even imagined a place so beautiful._

As they sailed past the harbor, Sansa noticed a rowboat moving towards them. There were four slaves rowing the boat and a man that Sansa recognized as a Lannister soldier was waving at Jaime as they approached. He had sent four of his men ahead to Lys before the Dragon Queen even arrived at the Rock. Though, he had not intended for them to be quite so far ahead, as he and Sansa had been delayed by several weeks, dealing with the Queen's siege. Jaime's soldiers had been tasked with finding a home for them and it appeared they had been successful, as the soldier beckoned for their large ship to follow the small rowboat. Sansa felt the excitement of a little girl on her nameday, wondering what awaited them.

They followed the rowboat past the busy port and market, and Sansa noticed that they were reaching a quieter area, with fewer houses and people. The rowboat finally turned and stopped beside a small dock. Tommen had loaded his kittens into their cage and was jumping up and down in excitement as they waited for the ramp to be lowered, allowed them to disembark and for the cargo to be unloaded from the ship.

"My lord, my lady. Welcome to Lys," the Captain proclaimed, waiving his arm grandly to indicate that they could leave the ship.

Tommen led the way down the ramp, with Sansa following him. Jaime carried Julianna, who she could hear chattering nonsense to him. It felt strange to finally stand on solid ground, after so long at sea, and Sansa gripped Jaime's arm to steady herself.

"Sansa, Uncle Jaime, look!" Sansa took Julianna back from Jaime, holding her as she turned and took in the sight of their new home.

The large villa was just as the other homes in Lys – a sparkling white with a bright blue roof and blue doors and shutters on the windows. Large trees that looked like none Sansa had ever seen in Westeros shaded the villa, and she saw that the soldiers Jaime had sent ahead were lined up in front of the house, along with several servants. The villa was built into a hillside, at the far end of the island, and Sansa could see the ocean and many of the smaller islands beyond it. It was so quiet and peaceful. _This is a paradise._

"Look, sweetling, at the home your father found for us. And here I was putting jewelry in my pockets to sell for food," she murmured to herself. She heard Jaime chuckle beside her.

"Selling jewelry for food would not suit a Lannister. My father would never approve. Tyrion sent us with plenty of gold and all of the trunks you packed. We'll be quite comfortable here."

"Lady Lannister, Ser Jaime, welcome to Lys."

Sansa stood, Tommen beside her, staring at their house, even as Jaime's soldiers streamed past her carrying trunks and crates. She'd never seen anywhere so beautiful. Now she noticed brightly colored flowers everywhere, in addition to the large trees that shaded their home. An elaborate metal gate surrounded the villa, though the gates were open now, allowing the soldiers to stream through with their many trunks and belongings.

Sansa kissed Julianna's forehead and followed beside Jaime as his men welcomed them. Tommen clung to her hand, looking at everything and everyone in wonder.

"It's hot here," Tommen said, looking up at her.

"It will be cooler inside Tommen," Jaime assured him.

Sansa noticed that the men Jaime sent ahead were dressed in light trousers and tunics, rather than the armor that was favored in Westeros. They still had their swords at their sides. There was no sigil on their clothes – she supposed that was so they could live in Lys without drawing attention – but she noticed a small embossing of a lion on their sword belts.

They finally entered the villa and, as Jaime had predicted, it was pleasantly cool after the heat of the outside. The floors and walls were covered in white marble and the furnishings were unusual, made of exotic woods and woven vines. The fabrics were lighter than the heavy velvets and brocades that were favored in Westeros. Large doors covered the back wall and all were thrown open, with thin linen curtains waving in the breeze. Sansa saw a glimpse of the blue ocean through the curtains.

"Is it too hot for my kittens?" Tommen asked when Pia carried their cage into the villa.

"They'll be fine, Tommen," Jaime said. "Pia will help you get them some cold water to drink, and find a nice spot to make a bed for them." He turned to one of his men. "Escort the boy to his chamber." The man nodded and led Pia and Tommen down a long marble hallway.

Another soldier led Jaime and Sansa to their own bedchamber. "Isn't it pretty here, sweetling?" she asked Julianna, who was pointing at everything they passed and chattering happily.

"Your chambers, my lord. My lady."

The men waited for Sansa to enter before following with several trunks of clothes and jewels. "The rest can be stacked outside the doors for now," Jaime said, no doubt recalling how many trunks Sansa had packed and knowing it would take quite a while for all of them to be unloaded from the ship and carried to their chambers. "If the boy wishes to join us, he may. Otherwise, we don't wish to be disturbed."

"Of course, my lord. Ser Jaime we are…very glad that your journey was a safe one."

"As am I. Lady Lannister and I are both appreciate the loyalty all of you have shown to us and to House Lannister."

Sansa smiled at the pleased expression on the soldier's face as he bowed and left them, closing the large double doors behind him. She wandered through the large bedchamber, which was furnished I the same fashion as the rest of the villa. There was a massive four-poster bed, which was draped with a sheer white netting and the bedding was made of a light linen. The bedchamber also had a wall of doors, and Sansa opened one and gasped at the sight before her. There were several large stone terraces, with a chaise lounge nearly as large as their bed, other large chairs for sunbathing and a table and chairs which would allow them to dine outside. Sansa could see the small, uninhabited islands Jaime had spoken of, rising sharply from the water in a sea of lush, green vegetation.

She heard Jaime call out from inside their bedchamber that there were clothes more suited to the weather inside, but she was far too distracted by the beauty before her. The terrace nearest the sea ended in several steps that led right into the water. Sansa knelt at the top of the steps and held Julianna, letting the babe splash her hand in the water. She laughed and looked up at Sansa for approval, a happy smile on her face.

_I love her so much. It was worth leaving everything behind, to see her happy. _"Perhaps your father will take you swimming later, Sweetling," Sansa said, reaching her own hand into the cool water.

"I'll take the both of you," Jaime said from behind her. She turned and smiled, noticing that he had changed his clothes and was wearing nothing but light linen trousers. Her eyes traveled over his chest and she suddenly felt warmer. The way the sun lit his hair and skin, she was struck by how beautiful he was – her brave knight. His golden skin and fair hair made him seem quite well-suited to the island paradise he had brought them to. Jaime seemed to notice her admiration, as his smile widened and he sauntered over, sitting beside her. Jaime hiked up the legs of his trousers and put his feet in the water. He held his hands out to Julianna who smiled and reached toward him, wrapping her arms around his neck once she was in his arms.

"You must be warm in that – even if it is your summer gown, Sansa. One of the maids purchased a few gowns for you at the market. I left one on the bed for you." Sansa smiled happily, and scurried toward their bedchamber, excited at the prospect of seeing the gowns Lysene women wore. She stood in the doorway for a moment and watched Jaime remove Julianna's little dress and shoes, leaving her in only her diaper as he kept her upright and let her splash her feet in the water. Sansa watched Julianna look up and catch his eye. Father and daughter both smiled at each other and he kissed her forehead before she returned to playing. Sansa rested her hand on her stomach, excited for the new babe that would join their little family.

Her sentimental emotions faded once she saw the…scrap of fabric on the bed. It was skimpier than anything Margaery Tyrell had ever worn, of that Sansa was certain. _Certainly this is not what he's calling a gown. _Sansa owned shawls made of more fabric than what was before her on their bed. _He can't actually think I'll walk around in this. In front of his men? In front of Tommen?_

She supposed it was all right to wear it now, in the privacy of their bedchamber. _It is awfully hot in this gown and I suppose this Lysene…dress…is simply a decided shorter nightshift._ Sansa sighed and unlaced her gown, frowning as she picked up the scrap of fabric in front of her, and realized that she could not wear her shift with it. Sansa removed her shift, finally feeling cool as the breeze from outside hit her bare skin. She slipped the silk dress over her head and pulled at it, realizing it covered as much as it was going to cover. She walked over to the mirror and gasped at her reflection. _I look so…improper. What would Mother say if she saw me in this? _

She turned around, her eyes taking in how the thin silk slid over the curves of her body. Though it dipped low in front and showed a scandalous amount of her legs and arms, her back was mostly covered, concealing the scars that marred the skin there. She bit back a smile, thinking she did look quite pretty. _Jaime will like me in this._

Sansa walked uncertainly over to the open doors and saw that he and Julianna had moved to the large chaise that covered by a large white canopy. Jaime was lounging in the shade, with little Julianna seated beside him. He looked up at Sansa's approach and she took some satisfaction that she managed to make words escape him for a moment.

"Julianna," he said quietly to their babe, who turned at the sound of her name, "It's not fair to the rest of the world, that your mother is so beautiful." She felt herself blush and went to him when he patted the cushion on the other side of Julianna. As she sat down, Sansa was horrified at the way her skirt became even shorter as she sat, riding up on her hips and tried to pull at it to keep it somewhat decent. "You look lovely, Sansa. You have nothing to be uncomfortable about."

She looked at him uncertainly and then forced herself to forget her attire – Jaime had seen her in far less – and curled up on her side, facing Jaime and Julianna.

"Mama," Julianna squealed, moving to cuddle with her.

"I pity the young man who comes asking for Julianna's hand." Sansa looked at him in question and saw that he was gazing at the two of them, looking as peaceful and happy as she had ever seen him. "She's so like you…I don't know that I'll ever be able to let her go."

"That won't be for some time, Jaime." Sansa smiled, watching as Julianna rested her back on the cushions, mimicking Jaime's posture. "Do you think our new babe will be a sweet little boy this time, like Tommen?" she asked, smoothing Julianna's russet curls.

"Perhaps. Though, I'd be satisfied with another little girl. Another little Sansa." Sansa giggled as Jaime reached for her ankles, pulling her legs over to rest across his lap. He ran his hands over her bare legs. "I rather like it here. You are…quite suited this Lysene garb."

Julianna patted Sansa's leg with her little hands. "Mama's leg," she said, laughing as if it were the funniest thing she'd ever heard.

"Silly girl," Sansa said, pulling her babe into her arms. She yawned before resting her head on her mother's chest, her eyes watching Jaime as he moved closer to lay beside Sansa, one of her legs still draped across his hip. "Jaime, you can't honestly expect me to wear something so…scandalous outside our bedchamber."

"Not in Westeros but…we're in Lys now. This garb is quite appropriate. It's not scandalous in the least," he said, even as his hand trailed higher and higher up her thigh, creeping beneath the hem of her dress.

Sansa looked at his hand pointedly. "You're proving my point. You can't wish for your men to see me like this. Or Tommen."

Jaime rolled his eyes, leaning over to kiss her forehead. He reached out and twirled a lock of her hair around his finger. "My men already know how fortunate I am…how gorgeous you are. And they'd never dare touch you," he murmured, kissing her passionately.

"Me kiss, dada," Julianna said, reaching for him. Sansa laughed as Jaime gave their daughter a little kiss. "Love…you."

"I love you, little lioness."

She giggled happily and settled her little body in Sansa's arms again. "I'd still like to go to the market tomorrow and find…more appropriate clothing. The women here can't possibly all dress like this." Jaime chuckled and moved closer to Sansa, wrapping his arms around her and Julianna.

"Welcome home, sweet girl," he whispered, kissing her temple.

…

_I know this was mostly fluff, but there will be some drama coming up for Jaime and Sansa soon. __It may be obvious, but I somewhat modeled Lys on Greece, since it is not described very much in the books. _

_As always, thank you for the comments and encouragement. I appreciate every single review that I receive for this story. (I can't believe that there are over 1400 reviews and over 500 followers – you guys are great!) I'm glad that you are enjoying the portions that don't directly involve Jaime and Sansa. I didn't want to resort to them reading letters to keep up on what was going on in Westeros, since I'm trying to tie the other characters into this story so I can get everyone where they need to be by the end. I do have an ending in mind, so rest assured, the story is not wandering aimlessly ;) But, I'm not in a rush to end it either. _

_Next chapter: We'll check in with the Northerners and see how the battle for Winterfell is going_


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